It's Only A Matter Of Time
by Paggers
Summary: Alexander Hamilton has just lost everything and his cousin has come to take him to New York for a fresh start. When he meets the best people in his life, will he be able to return the love and support they have bestowed upon him when things take a turn? Or will he throw away his shot? Eventual Lams.
1. Chapter One

**Hola, my name is Paige and this is my first Hamilton fan fiction. Please excuse my awful writing and try to enjoy this piece of work. Any criticism or compliments are welcome along with plot suggestions. Enjoy!**

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The wind whistled through the crevices of rocks as the sun set on the island of Nevis. The sky was a sickening yellow as death swam through the air. I sat on the docks staring at the calm waves softly crashing against the coast as I awaited the arrival of the ship. The ship that was to take me to New York. Nothing was left for me here now. _Mamá?_ Dead. _James?_ England. _Dad?_ May as well be dead. My entire town was destroyed. _I've got...nothing_. Nothing but painful memories and a ticket for that ship. As I looked out to the ocean, I pulled at a thread on my tattered, green hoodie. My reflection stared back at me, _mocking me._ My coffee coloured hair was greasy and thrown into a messy bun at the back. It was in desperate need of a wash, but, _can you blame me?_ I haven't exactly had time to worry about myself.

My name is Alexander Hamilton. This is my life, and there's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait... _just you wait._ This was my chance to go and make something out of my life, my chance to make my time on this earth worthwhile because you never know how long you have left. _I know that better than anyone._ Any moment could be your last, at the snap of fingers your life could flicker out of existence like a candlelight. That's okay, I'm not afraid of dying anymore. In all honesty, I imagine death so much it feels much like a memory than anything else. What I will do when that time finally comes is as much a mystery to me as it is to everyone else and that's just the way it goes I suppose.

Only days ago, the now calm atmosphere was flooded with panic and death as the hurricane swept my island. I was among the minuscule fraction of survivors of this natural disaster and I felt so empty. How can I have stared death in the face so many times yet always walk on through the storm practically unscathed. I just can't seem to die... _it's only a matter of time._

"Alexander Hamilton?" A young man tapped me on my shoulder. He looked at me with pity and sorrowfulness in his eyes. A look I now know too well as loss follows me like a lost puppy wherever I go. An inescapable burden that lingers behind me with every step I take.

"Sí señor. I am Alexander Hamilton." I responded.

"Hola. I'm here to take you to New York. My name is Peter Lytton, your cousin." The man held his hand out to help me up which I gratefully accepted.

"Gracias. It's nice to meet you Peter. The circumstances? Not so much." I looked to the floor in despair when tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I came to terms with all that I had lost. It hit me like a brick wall. I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and looked up to meet the kind eyes of my cousin. He gave me a reassuring smile and led me to the ship which now sat waiting for me. This is it and let me tell you, I am not throwing away my shot.

"So, Alexander. You will be staying with me for a few days before you to Columbia College. You have a dorm set up but don't hesitate to come visit me if you need anything. I only live a few blocks away." Peter said with a look of...sadness? I couldn't be sure, I was too distracted by the subject of my new school.

I somehow managed to get this scholarship. I'm not entirely sure how but this was an opportunity I certainly won't throw away. Maybe it had something to do with that report I wrote on the last hurricane to hit, not this one, the one a few years after _Mamá…_

 _Never mind that now._

"Merci Peter, I really appreciate this. More than you can know." I thanked him without realising my switch in language.

"Three languages and you're only 19? I'm almost impressed." He gave me a slight smirk which I returned.

"Yes. Take the liberty of having a Spanish speaking mother, a French speaking island and a dream of going to New York."

"Oh, so you have only recently learned English?" He asked.

"About a year and a half ago I knew little to no English. I'm good at learning languages I suppose." I chuckled softly as I watched his expression go from impressed to shocked. _I get that a lot._

We boarded the boat together and found our cabin. It wasn't a very big ship, but it's all we could afford considering neither me nor my cousin had a lot of money. Actually, I have no money. _I should probably get a job when I get to America, I can't rely on the cousin I met only moments ago for the rest of my life, I have to do this for myself._

The room we were sharing for this voyage was simple and plain with two beds and a small window. The space was incredibly limited, but it didn't seem to matter considering mine and my cousin's skinny physique. _Me?_ There wasn't enough food to go around on my island and so we often went hungry to the point of being dangerously underweight, but that didn't bother me. People had it worse. _Peter?_ He was bigger than me, but he was still very skinny. You could see his bones sticking out of his shirt like razor blades. I decided against bringing this up, however, as I got the feeling that it might be a sensitive topic. After all, I know next to nothing about this man and have no clue what he has been through, or what he could still possibly be going through. _It's best to just keep your mouth shut, Alex._

As the boat began to move, I felt a wave of anxiety crash through me. I just wanted to cry, _but no. You can't disappoint Mamá like that._ If she was still here with me, she would say, 'Paciencia y fe'. A phrase she would often use to calm my nerves and 'outbursts' as I preferred to call them. I don't really know what they are, but when I have them I lose all concept of reality and it's like I can't control anything which makes me feel alone, anxious and...angry. I haven't had one in a long time though, which is rare considering after Mamá...passed, I used to get them more regularly. They appeared to have stopped in the past few weeks, _the calm before the storm_ , which only filled me with more dread.

I glanced at Peter to get a better look at the only remaining relative I had contact with left. He was a tall man who didn't look to more than twenty-five years old? Twenty-six at most. He had light golden skin much like my own and big chocolate eyes, something else we shared. I could see the resemblance between us more and more as I took in his features. The same scratchy stubble and jawline. These traits were from my mother's side of the family. His face always wore a soft smile when someone was looking, but when he thought nobody was, he looked...sad. More than sad... _empty_. Maybe he was just grieving for his birth place, but I can't help but feel there is more to it than that.

All my thoughts were put on hold as his soft voice pulled me back into reality.

"Are you excited to go to your new school?" He asked me as if he was looking for any topic to break the tension in the room.

"Extremely. I really think this is my chance, its just gonna be a non-stop struggle to keep my scholarship." I answered. You can't blow this, Alex. You can't be the disappointment everyone expects you to be. What would James say? What about Mamá? "Tell me something about yourself, Peter. I want to get to know my cousin." I needed anything to spare my mind from the overwhelming pressure on my shoulders. It can't hurt to learn more about my cousin either.

"Well. I'm twenty-five," _I knew it,_ 'I was born on the island but moved to New York with my father before he passed. I'm a bartender, I don't earn much but it's enough to live off. That's pretty much all there is to me, I of course know your story. My condolences by the way."

"Gracias. I am quite the sob story, aren't I?" I sighed, subconsciously picking at the skin on my hands.

"It's not the past that defines us, Alexander. It's what we choose to do to move forward that counts. Everything happens for a reason and you just have to trust that things will get better. As my mother and Abuela used to say, 'Paciencia y fe'." I gave him a soft smile as I remembered Mamá's words once more. _I guess she wasn't the only one in our family to say that._

I picked up a book which I had brought with me for the long journey ahead of us. It was one of the few items to survive the storm and I liked to think of it as a lucky charm. A childish belief, _I know_ , but it's all I had to comfort me in these difficult times. I began to read quietly to myself as I slowly started to drift out of consciousness. I hadn't realised how tired I was. I hadn't slept in maybe two, three days? The desire to rest overcame all my other senses as I gave in to the darkness of sleep. Tomorrow will be the day I step into the greatest city in the world.

 _I'm ready America. Are you?_


	2. Chapter Two

The morning sun shone through the small window of our cabin dragging me back to consciousness. _Ugh_. _Does it really have to be that bright?_ My eyelids were heavy weights begging me not to wake up and face the world. I resisted the temptation and opened one eye in an attempt of grasping onto the reality of my current situation. _I wish it was all some cruel nightmare. I wish my island hadn't been destroyed by the wickedness of nature, that Mamá hadn't been taken away from me, that James hadn't left for England, that everything would be okay_. _Please, God,_ _let it all be some sick and twisted joke._ Alas, my pleads are inútil. It's all real.

Peter was sat on his bed scrolling through his phone, a pastime I have never understood. Then again, I don't exactly have a phone, so I can't really judge. _I'm going to anyway._ He has gotten dressed into a navy hoodie and some jeans which reminded me that I forgot to change last night. It doesn't matter, I have more important things to worry about. His brown hair was tied up in a dishevelled bun, much like my own. He somehow managed to make it look so much better though. _God, how I envy you already._ I can't even hate him for it either, he's just too kind. I could learn a lot from him.

As if detecting my eyes staring daggers at him, Peter shifted his gaze from his phone to me, giving me a soft smile. _Ugh, stop being so nice, your making me feel bad._ I returned a sleepy grin in an attempt to not be a complete grumpy arse. I'm not exactly a morning person.

"Hey sleepyhead, you enjoy your beauty sleep?" His smile turned into a cheeky grin.

I nodded, "I s'pose. Et toi?" I grimaced at my poor grasp on language this early in the morning.

"Not too bad. You were out cold. I thought that I'd just let you recharge, even if you still insisted on waking up this early, we won't be in New York till later tonight." He paused before adding, "They have some breakfast if you want some. It's just upstairs. If not, there's coffee too."

 _Coffee. Now we're talking._ Although my body still begged me to remain in the comfortable sheets, I dragged myself up to put some shoes on. I may be a mess, but I still have some ounce of self-respect. I wasn't going to just walk around shoeless even if they were worn in and falling apart.

"Yeah coffee sounds nice. Fantastic even. You want me to grab you something?"

His eyes shifted nervously to his fidgeting hands, "Oh…um – no, non merci. I already ate." He sounded as if he is trying to convince himself more than me.

I nodded cautiously, desperate to escape the tension which now flooded the room. I know he is hiding something, but I don't want to press him about it just yet. I shifted my gaze to the floor to avoid making the decision to say something. _My big mouth will be the death of me, I swear._ "Okay, if you're sure. I won't be long."

I stepped out into the narrow corridor to be greeted with the aroma of food. It smelled so appealing, but I wasn't hungry in the slightest. If I were to eat, I would probably be sick with my nerves. Instead, I had my heart set on coffee, _my lifeline._ Probably one of the best things in my life is that energising beverage. I hadn't had a cup of coffee in two days, this moment had been long awaited, and nothing was going to get in my way. Right now, it's just me and that cup of dark goodness.

I reached the stairs and climbed them, following the scent of bacon and toast. There was a table filled with food. I was momentarily distracted by the sight of the breakfast, but then my mind snapped back to the task at hand. _Coffee_. The coffee machine was just in the corner of the room calling for me. Like a moth to a flame. This was something I simply _couldn't_ say no to.

I made my way to the homing beacon and prepared a to-go cup. I picked up the pot and began to pour. It reminded me of back on Nevis when me and my best friend used to hang out at his cousin's bodega. Sonny used to make great coffee. I'm gonna miss it. _Hell, I don't even know if he's okay._ I didn't even go looking for him. _Selfish prick._

I sudden burst of pain shot through my leg causing me to hiss in agony. _Shit_ , I forgot I was pouring coffee. The cup was over-flowing. _Great_. I sighed and put the pot back before drinking some of my own to make room for a lid. It tasted like dirt in comparison to Sonny's coffee. He always made it light, sweet and with a hint of cinnamon. Plus, he always gave it to me for free. His cousin used to tease us about it and tried to get us together. _Crazy!_ I hope he's okay though. He was the only friend I really had. _How could I have not looked for him? How could I have been so self-centred._ His cousin should be okay, last I heard, he was off to D.R. I wish I knew where Sonny was. It pains me to not know of his safety.

I turned to head back to the cabin when I caught a second glimpse of the food. I decided to get a little something for Peter, just in case he changed his mind. Toast will do. Not too much, not too little. I set myself back on course to our room. The door seemed much brighter in the daylight compared to last night, maybe I was too overwhelmed to take any notice. It wouldn't be the first time I ignored detail. I should stop doing that, I'm missing the bigger picture, I can feel it. It's right at the end of my nose, but still out of sight. _What is it?_

I turned the door handle stirring a flinch out of Peter. I should have knocked. _Come on, Alex. Mamá raised you better than this._

"Sorry, I should have knocked." I apologised.

He laughed softly, "Nonsense, it's your room too. I was just lost in my thoughts."

"Hear, hear! You and me both. I love quiet alone time in my head, I am the only person who understands me and I'm my own best friend. But hey, let me tell you – I am one arrogant prick. I feel sorry for people who have to put up with me." We both chuckled at this. For a moment, just a second, we both let go of our troubles and enjoyed each other's company.

Peter is such a cool person. It is literally impossible to hate this guy. I want to, I really do. I don't want to like him, because if I do, he'll leave me. They always do, _always. Get out of your head, Alex!_ _Just enjoy it while it lasts._

"Somebody is definitely in a better mood after their coffee. Not a morning person?" He hit the nail on the head there.

"Not in the slightest, mon ami. After some coffee I'm usually more tolerable. I mean, it basically runs through my veins." He smirked at me. "Oh, I almost forgot. I got us some toast." I said, placing the plate on the bedside table between our beds.

"Oh, thanks Alexander. I'm not that hungry but thank you anyway." I nodded and left the plate where it was. I still didn't have an appetite.

We talked some more and then slipped into a comfortable silence. Peter read a book. _Northern Lights?_ It's a good book, I read it at the library on the island. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who used that place. While he read, I picked at my hoodie sleeve and finished my coffee, the toast long forgotten. My mind travelled back to Sonny, the bodega, my childhood. _How did I end up like this?_ I miss the life I had, it was the best. Sure, we were poor, but it didn't matter. We had each other. _Now what do I have?_ It hurt to think about what could have been, to think about how much better my life could have been. But, I can't complain, I'm still alive, which is more than can be said for others. My thoughts began to fade into quiet whispers as sleep took over me once again. I dreamt about my past. It replayed like a movie, _I can't wait to see you again Mamá…_

"Alexander, wake up." A familiar voice called arousing me from my slumber. _Oh_ – it's Peter.

"Huh?" I mumbled, confused. Physically, I was awake, my mind on the other hand, not so much.

"We're here! I can't believe you slept the day away." _What! How could I have slept all day? Jesus!_ "Welcome to New York, mon petit lion."

"Mon petit lion? Really? Why?" I questioned, half-confused, half-annoyed, "I am five foot six, I'll have you know. When little people fight, we may look like easy pickings, but we've got some bite!"

"I don't know, you just get grumpy when you're tired and you have a tongue like fire. Seriously, you would be great at debate, and it rhymes so it's true."

"I am not!" I sulked.

He laughed and patted me on the back, "you just proved my point. Come on, lets go. Vamos! Allons-y!"

I smiled, and we made our way to the docks, bag in hand, clinging to it as if it would disappear otherwise. The sky was a dark mix of blue and purple, but the stars were somewhere between faint and non-existent, the glare of the city blinding us from their true beauty. Another thing I am going to miss about Nevis. I'll add it to the list. _What do we have so far?_

 _1\. Sonny._

 _2\. Sonny's coffee._

 _3\. The bodega._

 _4\. The library._

 _5\. Mamá._

 _6\. The stars._

I pondered what else I could add until Peter tapped me lightly on the shoulder, my attention drawn back to him.

"You ready?" He asked.

"I hope so."

"My apartment isn't too far into the city. We can walk." I could do that, _probably_.

"Cool, what time is it? I still can't believe I slept that long." I responded, still baffled by my actions.

He glanced at the silver watch on his wrist, "It's just after ten."

"Mon Dieu." I muttered. In all fairness, I hadn't slept in three days prior to this, _give me a break._

He only laughed at my shock, it was contagious as I joined in with him. We began our walk to Peter's apartment talking mostly about my new school and our interests. The city was more breath-taking than I could have ever imagined, the buildings like Christmas trees, illuminating the streets. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it will be like during the day. Despite the late hour, everywhere was crowded. _People_. I could sense my nerves kicking into gear already.

My breathing hitched in my throat at the sight. I don't think I had ever seen this many people. The island didn't exactly have a big population. Everybody knew everybody. Now, I'm surrounded by strangers. _Lots of strangers_. My mouth was dry, and I was gasping for breaths. The panic inside of me desperately trying to surface. _No, not here. Please, not here, not now._ Deep breaths. _'Inhala, exhala_ ' Mamá's voice echoed through my mind. I attempted to apply her instructions. _Come on, you have to get used to people, Alex._ Luckily, Peter was ahead of me and hadn't noticed my nerves. Now is not the time for an _'outburst'._

"We're almost there, just around the corner." Peter encouraged me, guiding me to a road lined with apartment buildings.

"Nice. I know it seems impossible, but I'm still tired." I lightly chuckled.

"I think that's a good thing considering the time, you can get back into sync."

He paused at a black door, reaching to his pocket for the keys. I stood next to him, eagerly awaiting to finally relax. The lock clicked, and I followed him to the stairs. _Third floor._ Not too bad. He opened the door with another set of keys.

"Welcome Alexander, mi casa, tu casa! It's not much but there's space. Your room is just on the left of the corridor. Straight across from the bathroom. You can go ahead and sleep if you want, I think I might."

My… _room?_ I got my _own_ room? That made a change. I swear, _this man has been sent from the heavens._

"Thank you so much for this, Peter. You are a saint. I am gonna hit the hay though. I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well."

"No worries. G'night." He said.

I headed towards my… _room, I guess?_ It was actually quite big. _What on earth did I do to deserve such luxury and kindness from my cousin?_ That was the thing, I _didn't_ deserve this. It filled me with guilt, I have to make it up to him. Maybe I could cook him some breakfast in the morning. Tomorrow is a pretty big day, I need to find a job. I can't live off of Peter, it just wouldn't be fair, and I am no charity case, I can earn my own money. The single bed was under the window, a green duvet covering it. _God_ , it looked so comfy. The need to sleep overcame me for the third time and I, remembering to get changed this time, slid into the covers.


	3. Chapter Three

**Here it is, Chapter 3 finally! Thank you to MindAtWork for helping me with plot lines, grammar and general American knowledge. If you haven't read any of her stuff yet, you definitely should, it's awesome!**

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The alarm clock on my bedside table shouted at me. _6:00 am._ I unwillingly crawled out of the green sheets, my feet hitting the cold, wooden floor sending chills through my spine. I shuddered at the feeling. I lazily dressed myself in the same hoodie and jeans I'd been wearing for the past few days. _What?_ It's not my fault the storm destroyed all of my clothes. Not that I had that many clothes anyway. My hoodie, now covering my previously bare torso, filled me with a sense of stability. The only thing familiar about my surroundings was this hoodie, and right now I needed to cling to that. I wrapped my arms around myself trying to maintain my calm demeanour _. I'm fine_. Last night was just a bump in the road, a blip, nothing more. I managed to avoid making a fool out of myself. _Progress!_

I walked out of the door and headed towards the bathroom, just across from my room. Huh, my… _room_. It's gonna take a while to get used to saying that. I opened the white bathroom door. It was a modest size. A shower bath sat against the back wall, the toilet next to it. I turned to see the white sink next to the door. Above it hung a medicine cabinet. I looked into the mirror. _Big mistake_. I looked a mess. My eyes were shadowed with dark under circles. My hair was so greasy, thrown into a matted bun. I really should shower. I really _should._ I was never going to get a job looking like this.

 _Come on, Alex._ _Just get it over with, don't think about it. Straight in, straight out._ I cautiously approached the shower, my hands shaking as I turn the faucet. A sudden mass of water streamed down making me jump backwards. _Pull yourself together, Alex!_ I inhaled deeply before I removed my clothing once again. One last deep breath. I held it getting in. It was warm. As it ran down my back, my breathing hitched, the unwelcome feeling drowning me. _No! You aren't drowning, it's a fucking shower. Get over yourself!_ I quickly began to shampoo my hair. The scent caught me off-guard, it smelled like coconut. _Like home._

I remember me and…Mamá, when we would make coconut cookies. They were disgusting, but they were all we had. It was something we could call our own. The moments spent together were so few, and I took them all for granted. If I could go back… _God what wouldn't I give to see her one more time? Just one last time._

I didn't even cry, when she died. I didn't feel anything. I was just so empty. I didn't get to go to the funeral either. I was straight off to a foster home, Abuela Claudia's. She's not really my Abuela but she basically raised me. That's how I met Sonny, and his cousin. It's crazy how we were brought together. Two tragedies, one result. Maybe that's why we were so close. We understood each other. I not only lost my mother that day, but I lost my brother too. He was sent to a foster home in England, he refused to stay. _My big brother, gone…_

 _I might never see him again…_

 _I might never see any of them again…_

I froze. I didn't realise how long I'd been stuck in my head. _I need to stop, it hurts._ My skin was red raw from the water pressure. Wonderful. I turned the shower off. I couldn't deal with this room any longer. I scrambled to put my tattered clothes back on, quickly drying the wet floor. Checking my appearance in the mirror one more time, I saw no difference other than the fact that my hair was now wetter. A lot wetter. As I walked out of the bathroom I ran into Peter.

"Oh, hey Alex. You're up early again?" He quirked his eyebrow.

"Well, I need to find a job and I looked a mess, so I thought I'd take a shower. Sorry, was that okay?" _You should have asked before you just used his shower, idiot._

"Course it's okay. But Alex, why do you need to find a job?"

"I have to earn my keep somehow. Plus, I need to buy some clothes." I responded.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'll get you some clothes." He laughed, "you can always work with me at the bar if you really want to earn something."

"Wait, really? You'd really let me work for you? Thank you so much! Muchas gracias!"

"Nah, I gotchu. You can start tonight if you want. You won't be the only one starting today, so don't worry about it. He used to work there before, but he had to take a temporary leave. He's just younger than you actually, you'll like him." He smiled. _That smile had the power to lift anyone's mood. Jesus…_

Peter disappeared into the bathroom for an hour or so after our exchange. _What on earth could he have been doing?_ I went into the kitchen to grab a quick something to eat _. I can't believe I have a job now! That was easier than I thought it would be. I have a way to pay Peter back for everything he's done for me now. It was gonna be okay, probably._

Peter returned from the bathroom as I finished my toast. He just looked tired, we came home pretty late last night.

"Hey," I said, "you don't have a pen and notebook by any chance, do you?"

"Sure, just give me a sec." He responded. He began to look through a shelf, pulling out a new, green notebook, "I thought you might want one, so I got a few ready for you. Now, where did I put the pens?"

He handed me the notebook whilst he started searching through drawers. I thanked him.

"Aha, here they are. Here you go, mon petit lion." He grinned.

"Ugh, don't tell me that stuck," I groaned, "thank you though. How did you know?"

"Well, the report for starters. I took a chance, guessing that you write a lot. Even if you didn't, you'd need this stuff for school."

"Thanks." I smiled.

The rest of the day went by quickly. I mainly wrote about the journey here. I write about anything and everything, I don't want to forget. Peter was just going back and forth between reading and looking through Twitter. At about nine, he gestured for me to follow him. I did so, into his room.

"You can wear this, it's your new uniform. I've got to give one to the other guy too. Get changed, we'll set off in ten minutes." He said, handing me a black shirt and pants, an apron too.

I headed into my room to get changed. The clothes were a bit too big, but they didn't drown me. I brushed my hair into a makeshift low bun. I was assuming that it needed to be tied back if I was serving drinks. I grabbed my hoodie and shoved it in a bag Peter gave me. _That man has given me more in the past few days than I have ever received in my life. He was too good for the people of this Earth._

"You ready?" He asked as I met him in the kitchen.

"Yeah. Let's go."

We walked through the busy streets of New York City. _Why is it so busy?_ My anxiety started bubbling already. _Come on, we're going to be in a bar all night, it's only gonna get worse. Suck it up._ I quickened my pace as Peter navigated the city, turning left and right, left and right. _God, how do you not get lost?_ Ten minutes into our walk, he stopped in front of an old bar. It looked like it was built in the eighteenth century, only it had a modern interior. It was beautiful, much like the city surrounding it. He unlocked the door. It was like stepping into the past, only someone had left anachronisms everywhere. Bulbs in colourful mason jars dangled from the ceiling emitting an aesthetically pleasing light. The wall behind the oak bar was lined with every hue of amber liquid imaginable; each in a different shaped glass. As the sunset shone through the window, the drink inside the bottles glowed like a million fireflies, igniting the room with a golden flare. My right hand itched for a pen to write down every detail, _it was too stunning to ignore_.

Shortly after our arrival, a man knocked on the door. Peter opened it, allowing me to get a better look than I did through the glass window. He stood tall above me, leaning on his right leg more so than his left. His face looked like it was chiseled by angels, _mon Dieu. I could cut myself touching those cheekbones._ He too, had his dark frizzy hair tied up in a bun. _I at least did one thing right._ His cool, taupe skin scrunched into a goofy grin as he greeted Peter. It was quite possibly one of the most mesmerising, adorable smiles I had ever had the privilege of witnessing – _and I lived with Peter Lytton._ I couldn't help but let my lips curl up too, _my cheeks were going to hurt so much after this._

"Peter! It's been too long mon ami!" He said embracing him in a hug. His thick French accent had a slight southern drawl in it.

"It has! How's the leg?"

"It's getting better. Still sore, but I can walk on it without crutches now." The mysterious man responded. His attention turned to me sat on a black barstool, "Who is this?"

"Ah yes. This is my cousin, Alexander Hamilton." Peter introduced me.

I stood up and shook the man's hand.

"It's nice to meet you, your name is?" I asked.

"Je m'appelle Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de la Fayette. Don't look so lost, mon ami, Lafayette or Laf is fine."

"Dieu merci! I thought I'd have to remember." I laughed.

His dark brown eyes lit up after I said that.

"You speak French?" He sounded equally shocked and happy.

"Oui."

"Comme c'est formidable!"


	4. Chapter Four

My new French friend went into the back room to change into his uniform after much debate from Peter saying that he should just put on the apron, otherwise he would hurt himself _. I wonder what he did to his leg?_ There were a couple of loud bangs and crashes from the back room. Peter shot me a worried glance. Laf returned with his apron on backwards; sweat beading on his forehead. His hair was dishevelled from its original neat topknot, a bruise already forming on his right cheek. _What…the fuck?_ He was only gone for five minutes! He limped over to us looking like he had just walked out of a battlefield. _How?_ Peter shook his head at the sight, lightly chuckling.

"So, what have you learnt?" Peter smirked.

Laf sighed, "Peter is occasionally," My cousin raised an eyebrow at the sulking man, "fine, _almost_ , always right."

"Close enough, mon ami." He patted him on the back lightly.

Laf went into the back once more, returning looking slightly less like a bomb had gone off. Peter flipped the outdoor sign to tell New York that we were open for business. Lafayette was in charge of teaching me to serve whilst I was in charge of keeping him in one piece. A couple of people began to enter the bar, a light drink for most.

Laf taught me how to correctly address customers and where all the tables were. It wasn't as busy as I thought it would be, my nerves settled slightly. A few people got very drunk, as expected, but aside from that it was quiet. Peter was behind the bar pouring drinks for all the people seeing as neither me nor Laf were old enough to _. Please, I was working on Nevis at fourteen, this was nothing_. Only, there weren't as many people on Nevis.

Two hours into the shift, Peter took a break leaving Laf and I in charge. Everything was fine. That's when I saw him. My God, he was beautiful. Tight, espresso coloured ringlets escaped his ponytail, much to his agitation. His eyes were like forests trapped inside perfect circles; the greens blended with browns and ambers to create the most stunning spectacle; flecks of gold shining in the light. He wore a grey hoodie with the Puerto Rican flag pressed onto it, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his golden tan skin covered in…Dios mío…those freckles. They never ended! His eyes caught mine and he smirked. I must have been a blushing mess, that smirk was intoxicating. _I wonder what it would feel like against my own…_

I looked away from his gaze to avoid any further embarrassment that my thoughts would cause me. I could feel his eyes burning through me. I picked up a tray and tried to continue serving without anymore distractions. _Those eyes_ , I couldn't stop thinking about them. I turned around to see that he had climbed onto a table with a bottle of Sam Adams in his hand _._ I paused from delivering the orders to watch the events unfold.

"Mon ami? Are you okay?" Laf drew me out of my trance, "why have you stopped? Is something wro…"

He cut himself off as he stared at freckle boy.

"Laf?" I said.

"Fils de pute. One moment, Alex." He cursed under his breathe, walking towards the crowd that had formed around the table.

" _I may not live to see our glory!"_ Freckles sang, slurring each word. The crowd repeated the lyrics back to him, equally as drunk. " _but I will gladly join the fight…"_

Laf walked straight up to him removing the bottle from his hands after meeting much resistance.

"John... why don't you have a middle name? Ugh, use some of mine, John Paul Yves Roch Laurens come down from that table this instant or so help me God!"

"Large baguette! Long…umm…long time no see!" He laughed.

"I literally saw you two days ago, John. I called you this morning?"

"I dunno who John is, but he sounds dope." He shrugged, swaying slightly on the table.

"Come on, you shouldn't be here. If Peter sees again, he'll ban you, for real this time."

"Pft… _please_ …Philip loves me!" He hiccupped.

"It's Peter, mon ami." Laf sighed, rubbing his temples.

 _Maybe this wasn't the first time something like this had happened._ I contemplated interceding but figured that Laf obviously knew freckle boy, _John._ He had a better chance at getting him down.

"Right come on, get down. I'm not having a repeat of last time." Laf said, giving him a hard glare.

"What happened last time?" He giggled.

Laf said nothing, he only gestured to his bad leg. John furrowed his eyebrows before he was hit with a wave of realisation.

"Oh, sorry 'bout that one. But, I don't want to get down! I'm having fun! Let me live, you fun sucker, you sucker… of fun!"

"I'll call dad, Jack." Laf threatened, getting his phone out.

"Awh, washing machine loves me! He's so dope," he span on the table, "chillax. Dance with me French Fry!"

"I really don't want to do this."

He wore a face of confusion, "what? Call Washington?"

Laf, shifted his eyes to the ground in…shame? He sighed before looking back into John's eyes, "Non, not _my_ dad…. yours."

John's face fell immediately upon hearing that sentence. I swear I saw him flinch at the words. That cheeky grin was wiped from his face, instead replaced with a pained grimace.

"No, no, no, no, please don't. You can't... you just… you can't, okay?"

"I don't want to call him anymore than you do. But, if you don't get down, you know I'm going to have to, don't you?"

He sighed, "… yeah."

He started to get down. He had just stepped onto the ground when a man called out something I couldn't quite make out. Whatever it was, it sparked a flame in John, a flame of pure rage. Before I could register what was going on, John had already started making his way towards the tall man.

"Merde." Laf muttered following behind his friend.

"What the fuck did you just say?" John exclaimed.

It happened so quickly, the man didn't have time to respond before a fist was swung straight across his face, igniting a roar of cheers from the crowd. While he was on the ground, John landed punch after punch on him, never weakening the strength once. Lafayette tried to pull him off, wincing in pain when his knee met John's elbow as he prepared for another swing. I could see him itching to clutch the injury, desperate to stop in his efforts of preventing a homicide. He would not give in, however. Fighting through the pain, he grabbed both of John's shoulders and yanked him off.

"Right! That's enough mon ami! Get in the back room," John only scoffed at the Frenchman scolding him, "now."

He wouldn't budge so Laf grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the storage room in the back. The whole time he was screaming curses at the man who had insulted him, restless in his rage. He had a fiery passion, _like Sonny…_

As he was dragged away, Peter re-entered the bar looking both stressed and tired. When he saw Laf and John, he gestured for me to help them whilst he ran the place. I didn't want to leave him with the aftermath of the fight, but he just gave me a soft smile telling me he was fine. I suppose it was time for my break anyway. I made my way towards the room, I could already hear the stream of curses flowing from both men. Some French, some English and some… _Spanish?_ I opened the door to see the room a mess, boxes tipped over, papers scattering the floor. I assumed that the destruction was from Laf's earlier accident until I saw John throwing things everywhere. I dodged multiple flying books. _Why are there books…in a bar?_

"Stop screaming at me in languages I can't understand!"

"¡Cállate el stupido elephante!" John shouted back. I couldn't help but laugh at the insult, making my presence known in the room.

"Alex! Can you give me a hand?" Laf said, trying to restrain John.

"Yeah, what do you want me to do?" I asked, unsure of how I could be of help, helpless.

"You don't happen to know what he's saying do you? I don't speak Spanish, and when he gets like this he doesn't stop. I'd ask Peter but he's busy." He was out of breath from trying to calm him down.

"Sí, I can," I approached him, slowly so that I wouldn't make him worse, "John, me llamo Alejandro. ¿Qué tal?"

"¡Nada! ¡Estoy bien!" He shouted whilst throwing his arms around in distress, launching book after book. _Seriously…why are there books in here?_

"No estás bien. You don't look fine."

"¡Bueno, deja de mirar!"

"Come on, respira. Inhalar y exhalar para mí. That's it, it's gonna be okay, John. Lo prometo."

He stopped fighting Laf and sank to the floor, holding his head between his knees. I kept repeating those words, the words my mother had given to me long ago, ' _inhalar y exhalar'._ Laf and I sat beside him while he focused on breathing instead of destroying the room. I don't know how long we sat there for, but John fell asleep leaning on my shoulder. Laf smiled at him and moved his hair out of his face.

"Sorry about that, Alex. He can't always control his temper." Laf said, not taking his eyes off of the man who looked so vulnerable as sleep consumed him.

"It's no problem, honestly. What made him so…angry?"

He sighed, "Someone called me 'a gay bastard immigrant who needs to go back to where I came from and stop wasting American funds'. Jokes on them, I'm bi, not gay," he laughed, "He never would let anyone insult me. I just wish he wouldn't get so worked up about it, especially when he's drunk."

"He's done this before?"

"Oui, we even added stuff in here to keep him busy. Books, pencils, sketchbooks, if only he wouldn't throw them at us," _So that's why there are books in here,_ "It's like his safe room, only, he isn't really supposed to be in here. Peter won't kick him out though, God bless that man. He is too kind, refuses to shut him out even when he's underage."

I smiled at the thought of my cousin's kindness. John stirred on my shoulder, burying his head deeper into my neck. He was burning up. I put the back of my hand on his forehead, he was way too hot.

"He's got a high temperature; do you think he'll be okay?" I asked.

"It's probably just the alcohol, or all the fighting he did. He said he wasn't feeling too good this morning, I'll take him to my place later, let him sleep for now, that is if you don't mind giving up your shoulder for a bit longer."

"It's fine. Is he your…"

"Boyfriend? Non, he is more like mon frère. He's my best friend." He finished for me.

"He means a lot to you, huh?"

"Let's put it this way, I took a bullet for this idiot," he gestured to his leg, "he got into a fight. A gun fight, I pushed him out of the way and bam, straight in the leg. It's funny, I didn't even realise till I dragged his ass back to the car."

 _Shot…in the leg. How do you not notice?_ Peter joined us in the room wiping sweat off of his brow. He had a cold damp towel with him which he handed to Laf, who wasted no time in placing it on John's head. The sleeping man scrunched his face up at the contact but didn't wake.

"How bad was it this time?" Peter asked.

Laf let out a breath, "he's been worse, but… not good. Alex nearly took multiple books to the face, he's pretty good at dodging."

"Let's just say I've had a lot of practise." I sadly smiled at memories from home of being beaten to a pulp by, well… most people. Peter shot me a worried look which I just gave a somewhat reassuring smile to.

In his sleep, John kept muttering something. I tried to listen, "lo siento… lo siento. I'm sorry, sir."

"What is he saying, Alex?" Laf asked.

"He keeps saying, 'I'm sorry, sir,' I think he's dreaming."

Laf and Peter shared a look with each other, as if they knew what was troubling him. I only whispered reassuring phrases in his ear, like Mamá used to do for me. _You always knew what to do._ My cousin disappeared to grab something, he came back with a hot chocolate.

"Can you wake him up?" He suggested.

"Oui, I'll try," Laf shook his shoulder lightly, "John, mon ami, come on. It's okay, it's just me, you're only dreaming. You're okay."

His eyes shot open and he gasped, "no, no, no! Please don't!"

"It's okay, it's just us. He isn't going to hurt you, not while we're here." Laf wrapped his arms around the trembling boy as he sobbed.

Peter handed him the hot chocolate which he took little sips of, still leaning on Laf.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. I… I don't know what happened. Why do I do stupid things if I don't mean them? I didn't mean to hit him, you know I hate it. I'm so so sorry. Please don't hate me." He apologised over and over, his voice hoarse from his earlier screaming.

"We know, you don't need to apologise, you haven't done anything wrong. You were just a bit upset, that's all," Laf tried to comfort him but he wasn't having any of it, "do you want me to take you back to my place?"

"Please, but not yet. My head hurts." He held his head with his eyes shut tightly.

"I bet it does. What have I told you about drinking, John? Two more years and you can do whatever you want, but not yet. Believe it or not, I do care about you." Peter said getting up from the floor.

"Fourteen months actually." He smirked back.

"Whatever smartass, I'm gonna get you some painkillers. Don't go anywhere."

"Couldn't if I wanted to."

We sat in a comfortable silence, none of us knowing what to say. I took off my apron and replaced it with my hoodie. I fiddled with the sleeves waiting for someone to make the next move. John's hair had completely escaped his ponytail in his earlier struggle, the curls covered half of his face not quite hiding the tear tracks on his cheeks. He took another sip of the hot chocolate.

"I'm sorry you had to see that… Alejandro, was it?" He broke the silence.

"Yeah, but you can call me Alex. It's fine, don't worry about it." I smiled at him.

He stood up, nearly immediately falling back down again, and held the wall for support, "no, it's not fine. I lost my cool, I'm sorry. It's John by the way, John Laurens, at your service, sir." He bowed, laughing at himself as he did so. Laf had to move himself to catch him before he fell.

"Really, Laurens? You are really flirting with Alex right now? You've had way too much to drink. What am I going to do with you?" Laf sighed.

"You're going to love me forever 'cause I'm your favouritest idiot ever?"

"And don't you forget it!" Laf tickled him showing no mercy. They were both on the floor in hysterics. I made the mistake of laughing too which ended in them both attacking me. I too, was on the ground being tickled. Peter walked in a few moments later.

"I swear, I leave any of you people for five minutes… fine, whatever. Here's your drugs, John. Come on, it's time to close up."

We dusted ourselves off, me and Laf helping John to steady himself. We walked out together and parted ways, a quick goodbye as we went. I had my eyes on the pavement, trying to avoid the reminder of New York's vast population. I couldn't get that man off my mind; those eyes, the hundreds of freckles that were scattered over inch of him, the bouncing ringlets, _that_ grin. The past few hours had been so eventful, his mood going from 'A' to 'B' in a matter of minutes. _I want to see you again…_

"Look at Alexander! He blushin'?" Peter nudged me and winked, "Laurens, huh? Let me guess, the freckles?"

"What? Sh… shut up…" I stuttered back, my face burning with embarrassment.

He laughed and kept teasing me with combinations of our two names. _This was gonna be a long night._


	5. Chapter Five

**Some fluff before the angst storm brewing. Thank you to MindAtWork, as always, for helping me. Couldn't have done it without you. Enjoy!**

* * *

I continued my vicious assault on my notebook hours into the night, though it only felt like a few moments. I couldn't sleep, thoughts and questions flooded my mind. I had to write it down, get it out. I gripped the pen so hard that my knuckles turned white. What was going to happen tomorrow? What would it be like? My writing spree was brought to a stop by soft knocking on my bedroom door. I checked the clock on my bedside table. 2:48am. Why was he up again?

"Hey, Alexander," my cousin called from behind the door, "sorry, I know it's late, but can I come in? You decent?"

"Umm, yeah… it's fine. One second," I grabbed my hoodie and pulled it over my head to cover myself up, "okay, you can come in."

He opened the door, leaning casually on it's frame.

"How you holding up?"

"I'm fine, I'm mostly okay. As good as I can be, just… nervous, I guess."

"That's… that's good, it's okay to be nervous. As long as you're excited, too, you're gonna change the world some day."

"Oh, yeah, I'm definitely excited, it's just a big thing, y'know?"

He closed the distance between us and engulfed me in a warm embrace. It felt so foreign to me, but I hugged him back, finding comfort in the gesture.

"I'm gonna miss you, mon petit lion." There was a sadness in his voice.

I grimaced at the nickname, "I'm not small, you're just freakishly tall. And, me, too, but it's not like you're never gonna see me again. Don't sound so… so final about it. I'm only gonna be a couple of blocks away."

He didn't say another word, he only tightened his arms around me and mumbled a quiet, 'mhm'. I could practically hear his mind churning.

"Something you wanna say? What's on your mind?"

I was tired of dismissing the questions my inquisitive mind screamed, I wanted answers.

He let go of me, as if being pulled out of a trance and furrowed his brows, "what? Oh… umm, I got you some stuff. Hold up, lemme go grab it all."

He left my room. I stood there, curious as to what more this man had to give me. I didn't deserve it, his kindness, not any of it.

Peter came back with a large box wrapped in blue paper, "Peter, I can't…" he shushed me and put the box on my bed, sitting beside it, "...but."

"You can, and you will have this. Well, go on then. I wonder what it could be?" He mocked curiosity and gestured at the gift sitting in my place.

I hesitated, picking at a loose thread on my hoodie, unsure of whether or not I could morally accept another thing from my cousin; a man who had already given me so much. I knew that he wasn't going to leave until I gave in, and he looked so tired, as if he hadn't slept in days. It was late, I couldn't be the reason he wouldn't sleep, I refused to be the reason.

I gave in and began to tear the paper of the box, throwing it in the bin. He wore a grin as I made my way inside the gift, my own curiosity quickening my pace. Once the wrapping paper was thrown away, I looked inside the box, my eyes widened.

"No. Peter, I can't accept all of this."

"Sure you can, I got it all for you."

Inside the box was a laptop, a phone, new stationary, clothes, notebooks, and lots of books. It was too much. I did not deserve this. Why was he being so nice?

"Why? Why have you given me so much?"

"What do you mean, 'why'? You're my cousin." He answered as if it was obvious.

"But, I don't deserve all this stuff. I haven't done anything to deserve it."

He looked at his hands, twiddling his thumbs, "well, think of it as a 'going away present'. I want you to have some stuff to help you at college."

I didn't know what to say. I stood up and moved to hug him. He chuckled softly.

"Gracias, Peter, truly."

"Don't mention it," he patted my back and sighed into the embrace, "I'm not gonna see you in the morning, Laf is gonna come and take you. John, too, I think. I never know with that one."

"Oh… okay, they're going, too?"

"Yup."

"Oh, cool," I tried to hide the smile that was most likely growing on my face, "so, when will I see you?"

"I, uh, I don't know. Don't worry about that, just promise me you will work hard, but don't forget to take care of yourself. Prométeme?"

I smiled and let go of him, "sí, I promise."

He said a quick 'g'night' and left. I stared at my new stuff in disbelief. I couldn't believe I was here, after everything, it all felt like a dream. I fell asleep, my eyes needing no convincing to succumb to the darkness of unconsciousness.

The next morning was a mad rush. Peter had gone, presumably to clean the bar, and I was left to prepare myself for the day ahead. First thing, shower. I tried to make it as short as possible. The less time in there, the less chance there was of getting in my head. I didn't need that, not today of all days. Next up was breakfast, cereal would be fine. I checked my list over and over. Had I forgotten anything? All of my belongings were ready, my new gifts included. I sat on the sofa, bouncing my knee, trying not to notice how painfully slow time was moving. I was failing miserably.

I heard the door click open and snapped my head to the source of the sound. Peter was at the bar, who else had a key? Before I had a chance to ponder it further, Laf walked in wearing his welcoming grin, followed closely by John.

"Ah, bonjour, Alex," Laf greeted, exasperated, "aidez-moi! Je l'aime, mais il me rend folle, tu sais?"

"Salut?" I said, still in a slight state of confusion, "how is he driving you crazy?"

"Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo! What time is it?" John cheered.

"Laurens, for the fucking last time, I am not going to say it." Laf's jaw was set, staring intensely at the floor.

"Please? You know you want to. I said, what time is it?"

Laf let out a hefty sigh that said it was way too early for him, "showtime."

"Showtime! Showtime! Wha- ow." Laf elbowed him and put his finger to his lips, shushing him.

"I expected you to use the buzzer?" I inquired.

Lafayette dangled a set of keys, similar to mine except his had a great deal more keychains, "no, I have the keys, mon ami."

John coughed, "yeah, but do you have the secret, though?"

I thought Laf's eyes were going to disappear into the back of his head, whilst John burst into a fit of giggles. It was so adorable to watch, I couldn't help but smile. He tried to stop, even trying to match Laf's facial expression, but he caught my eyes, finding my amusement. He licked his lips in an attempt to contain himself, unable to hold back his grin any longer, his head tipped forward, trying to conceal his shoulders shaking with a silent giggle.

"It wasn't funny the first time you made the joke, it isn't funny now." Laf groaned into his hands as he wiped his face from the tiredness that was painted across it.

"I mean, it is a bit, though."

"Whatever, dork." I could see that smile creeping back onto his face, complimenting the rest of his features.

They flopped onto the sofa next to me, bags and cases discarded on the floor beside my own. They sighed in unison.

"Do you want a coffee?" I asked.

"If you don't mind." Laf responded.

"Please." John agreed.

"Oh no, no, no. None for you, you are going straight to sleep when we get there."

"What? No! I have stuff to do."

Laf held the bridge of his nose, "you had a two hour nap last night, you need more."

"Fun sucker! Stop worrying about me, you're not my mamá." He declared, pointing at him for dramatic effect.

"I know," he sighed, "I just care about you."

I made him a decaf coffee, and a regular one for Laf. I was not one to deny a man his coffee, at least this way he could still sleep. We talked some more while we finished our drinks. We picked up our bags, making our final checks, before setting off, Laf locking the door behind us. He sent John a knowing look when he opened his mouth, obviously tired of the same joke.

The walk was quick, made quicker by the company. I would have hated to be on my own, left alone to my thoughts and the crowded streets of New York. We kept walking together, making light conversation.

"Thanks again for the bar thing, Alex." John rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

"I'm surprised you remember." I chuckled.

"Yes, you were a bit out of it, mon ami." Lafayette added.

"I… I wasn't that drunk. I had like, one… or two… or maybe I was working on three, that parts a bit blurry. But, I wasn't 'drunk' drunk, more 'shouldn't have done that, but screw it' drunk."

"I have known you since I was a child, you taught me English, but you still make no sense."

He scowled at Laf, "I make sense, you just aren't listening."

"Is someone grumpy?" He teased, ruffling the freckled boy's hair.

John stopped walking and glared, "don't."

He complied, and we continued to walk. They took turns playfully shoving each other. It wasn't long before we reached the campus, my excitement overthrowing my nerves at the sight of it. We went through the dorm registration and check-in. I was thankful for the coincidence of us being roomed together in a two-bedroom suite for four people. We weren't told who the fourth person was as they weren't sure he was coming. I insisted on John and Laf sharing a room, which Laf silently thanked me for, wanting to keep an eye on his best friend. I was fine on my own until the other guy came. I wondered who it could be, hoped it was somebody decent.

We dragged ourselves up the stairs until we reached the tenth floor, searching each door for the number '1077'. We left our bags in the middle of the hallway, wanting to give our arms a break.

"Found it!" Laf yelled, slightly out of breath.

"At last," John sighed, "I can do my shit now."

"Why didn't we use the elevator?" I asked, panting.

"You two are so unathletic, that was nothing." John said, not even breaking a sweat

"Nothing?" Laf and I exclaimed in unison.

He smirked again and unlocked the door for us, taking our bags effortlessly. Jesus, he was strong. His lithe body was relaxed despite the exertion, while I tried to catch my breath. His hair was tied back out of his way in a low ponytail, a mass of untamed curls, bouncing as he walked into the suite. He was alluring to me in every way possible and it made me feel vulnerable, like I was a victim to his charm. The round sculpt where his ass met his legs gave me chills. I mean… _damn_. Heat rose to my cheeks at the sight of him, a feeling I had felt more in the past few days than I had in months, not since Sonny.

"Uh, tha- thanks," I cursed myself for stuttering, "but I could have carried it myself."

His lips twitched into that damned smirk again, the smirk that made me mad with want, "I'm sure you could have done, but… you gotta admit, you enjoyed watching me way more."

"Oh, mon Dieu! And so it begins. The neverending flirting, the giggling, the sex… ing," Lafayette paused to rethink what he just said, "never mind. I mean, I'm European, but Jack, you are something else."

"¡No me diga! Tell me something I don't know." He sing-songed, winking at me. I was as red as a tomato, he was unfazed by it, playing along. Was he playing? I assumed he was joking, what would he see in me? _Ugh, shut up, Alex, you're getting carried away, you barely know the guy_. I needed to get to know him.

"For the last time, je ne parle pas espagnol!"

"For the last time, no hablo francés! Well, I know a bit… obviously, I just answered you."

"This is going to be... interesting." I picked up my bag, witness to an intense stare off. Laf broke into laughter first, much to John's joy.

We claimed our rooms and began to unpack, I could hear the playful disagreements over where to put each others belongings from the room now belonging to John and Lafayette, always ending in exasperated groans from the latter and giggles from the former. It was amusing to listen to, the cheesy jokes, having fun. It was a change from the night at the bar, instead of streams of curses it was light hearted teasing. Laf was right, they were just like brothers. It reminded me of James and I when we were younger. When life was easier. I smiled at the memories, when we were happy and everything was fine. Running along the coast together, lightly shoving each other, the same way John and Laf did earlier. I missed him.

We ordered pizza for dinner, thinking it was the only logical thing to do on our first night here. It arrived and we sat in the living room.

"I'll grab my laptop, we can watch Sherlock. Any objections?" John asked.

"No, monsieur."

"I've never seen it." I sheepishly admitted.

"I think you'll like it. Prepare to have your mind blown away."

He went to retrieve his laptop, setting it up on the television-less T.V. stand. He sat next to me on the floor while Laf took the whole sofa. He pressed play and we watched, the start making John jump beside me. The gunshots rang around the room, quick and frantic, the indistinct yells of soldiers drawing soft whimpers out of John. fHe leaned into me, head buried in my shoulder in response to the scene. I didn't question it, only offering him another slice of pizza when the first part was over. We hadn't gotten five minutes in before I had worked it out, it was obvious really. I waited a bit longer to confirm my suspicions.

"It was the taxi driver." I stated with the utmost confidence.

"What? Non, it can't have been." Laf was absentmindedly playing with John's hair from the sofa.

John was shocked, stuttering at the speed of my deduction, "wha- how? How can you know that fast?"

"It's obvious really, think about it." I stated, urging him to see from my viewpoint.

"It's not obvious to me, I think it was Anderson." He replied.

I couldn't contain my laughter, "Anderson? Please! He has the IQ of a plastic bottle."

"We'll see."

The show continued, more pieces of evidence supporting my claims until the realization scene. I grinned proudly. John threw his arms in the air in frustration.

"Son of a- "

"Fucking called it."

Laf stretched, "well… that was…" he sighed, "I'm going to bed, I can't think. John, bed. Allons-y!"

John groaned, his head returning to it's place on my shoulder, "I have stuff to do."

"Yes, sleeping." Laf insisted.

"Yes, sir," he scowled, grumpily walking to their shared room, "g'night, 'Lex."

"Buenas noches."

He let his stern look fall slightly as he walked away. Laf and I said our goodnights and I returned to my empty room. I opened my laptop and tried to figure out how to use it. I got the basics and started to write down all that I could. It was getting late. I knew I should at least try to get some rest. I put some new sweats on and searched my bag for my book. Damn, I knew I'd forget something. I sighed, I'd just go back to Peter's apartment tomorrow.

I opened the bedroom door and went to make myself a coffee. I was surprised to hear the drop of pens on the hard floor. I snapped around to see John with his headphones on, sprawled out across the floor, hovering over a notebook. He turned to face me.

"Oh, hey." he waved, "why are you awake?"

"I could ask you the same question."

He bit his lip, "fair play. Sit with me?"

"Sure. Whatcha working on?"

He took his headphones completely off and rubbed his neck as I joined him on the floor, "uh, I'm… I'm writing an EP."

"An EP?"

"Yeah, it's like multiple original songs, but not enough to be qualified for an album. It stands for Extended Play, so, like a single, but more than one… if that makes sense." He bounced the pen between his fingers, drumming a beat on the paper.

"I think I get it, so, like, would The Beatles 'Twist and Shout' thing be an EP?"

"Yes, that's precisely it!" he cringed at the volume of his voice, "I'm glad you understand what I'm saying, I've been told I talk too fast, and that I make no sense. I mean, those two don't really go together. It's- it's like sausage and vanilla ice cream, it doesn't go, recipe for disaster-"

"You make perfect sense. You talk a little fast, but I know what you're saying, it's no problem. Besides , it's kinda cute." The words left my mouth before I had the chance to have an internal debate about them.

His freckled cheeks turned to crimson and he bit his lip to stop it from curling up, failing. He turned his face towards his paper. I noticed the sheet was blank aside from the word 'Freedom' and a few doodles in the corners.

"Freedom…" he started, "songs about… freedom."

"But, what does freedom really mean?"

"What?" He looked at me again, curiosity shining in his forest filled eyes.

"Well, people assume it just means to be physically free, like, free from slavery, bondage. I guess that is technically true, but it's more than that. Are the people truly free? That's what we have to ask ourselves."

"What do you think?"

I looked out of the window, "to me, I don't think we are free. Everyday is a challenge, the racism, the homophobia, the sexist opinions, the overall hatred for people of the same fucking species. I know we can do better. It seems like until we can overcome those foolish opinions, no one will ever truly be free, certainly not from the vicious society we have come to know as 'the human race'. It's so stupid," I looked him in the eyes again to see his wonder, "you know?"

His whole face lit up as he processed my response, "Alex! You are a genius! ¡Eres un genio!" he clapped his hand over his mouth at his volume.

"What did I do? I mean, I know I'm a genius, but what specifically?"

"You did it, you- you solved my problem. I was looking at it from the wrong perspective, I know what I need to write now!"

"You're welcome?" I involuntarily yawned.

"You can go to sleep you know, don't let me keep you."

"Nah, I like keeping you company." I leaned back against the sofa, my exhaustion clouding my nerves of possible consequences, too tired for my mind to torment me.

"Me, too." He dreamily responded, beginning to write things down onto the paper.

The scratches of the pen on the notebook lulled me to sleep. I was startled awake to find myself in his arms being carried.

"It's okay, it's only me. I'm taking you to bed, it's late. You're good."

I mumbled something even I couldn't understand in response and fell asleep again, my eyelids too heavy to fight it. He placed me gently in my bed, tucking me in.

"Buenas noches, Alex."

"Mhm, g'night"


	6. Chapter Six

I woke up in my own bed, confusing me at first before I recollected the events from the night before. It wasn't a dream. I was wrapped tightly in the duvet, safe. The warmth trapped in the pocket of air between me and the sheets urged me to stay in bed. I unwillingly pulled the covers off and was hit immediately by the cold air. I shuddered and grabbed a blanket to wrap around myself, leaving to make myself a morning coffee.

John was lying on the sofa, face in a sketchbook. He was already dressed, wearing dark skinny-jeans and a red plaid shirt rolled to his elbows, revealing his tanned arms. He had his hair in a french braid, but that didn't stop the fly-away curls falling in his face. I was speechless… me, _speechless?_ This guy was hot. _Stop it, Alex. just get your coffee._

"Hey." he said, not looking up from what he was drawing.

"Morning. You want one?" I offered, holding up the coffee pot.

"Thanks, I really need one," he chuckled lightly, "my brains gone to shit."

He put down his sketchbook and leaned back in the couch, head in his hands. He was muttering something I couldn't quite register.

"Did you not go to sleep?" I asked.

He grinned, "not really… no. I nearly finished the lyrics for one of the songs, though."

"Laf is gonna kill you."

"Ha! I'd like to see him try."

I handed him his mug and sat on the floor with my own. It was too hot to drink. We sat in a comfortable silence with our drinks, catching each others glances, always immediately looking away. It was comedic in it's way, I couldn't help but smile. We heard a loud groan from John and Laf's room followed by a stream of curses. John was the first to jump up, walking to the room they shared.

"You good?" He asked standing in the doorway, me behind him.

"Oh, merde, ma putain de jambe!" Laf exclaimed, clutching his knee from where he lay on the floor.

John joined him on the floor, helping him up. Lafayette winced in pain.

"Can you repeat that in English?" John asked, a look of worry on his face.

"I mean, if it's not fucking obvious, I said, 'oh shit, my fucking leg!'"

"Alex, can you get his painkillers, please? They're in our bathroom," he asked me, rolling his eyes at Laf's sarcasm, still worried.

I retrieved the pills from their bathroom where they sat on the sink and poured a glass of water. I gave them to Laf who took them dry, obviously in too much pain to care about the water. He was sat on his bed, John opposite him.

"What did you do?" John asked.

He hissed through the pain, "I, uh, I fell out of bed. But, the stairs did my knee in yesterday."

"Why didn't you say anything?" John questioned.

"Didn't want you to worry."

"You worry about me. Just... tell me next time, we could have taken the elevator."

I grabbed my coffee and offered some to Laf who declined it, instead he accepted the water. We sat with him until the painkillers took effect, John trying to distract him.

"Hey. Hey, Laf."

Lafayette rubbed his face, still tired, "yes, mon ami."

"How's your girlfriend?" John grinned.

Laf blushed a furious shade of pink at the question and groaned into his hands. His disheveled afro bounced as he fell into his pillow.

"I'm not with her anymore, I'm sure I have told you this."

"I… I don't think so. I don't remember. But, why did you break up? I thought you were tight?" His look softened with sympathy.

"Um, I met a guy, she met a guy. We called it quits. This, I have definitely told you," he studied John's features, "though you might have been drunk at the time."

"Oh, I'm sorry," his head perked up with realisation, "wait… did you say you met a guy?"

"Oui, do you ever listen?" Laf laughed, "you met him."

"What? Who?"

"Nope. That is for me to enjoy and for you to not go all protective on me."

"Who is this person and what are you enjoying?" he gasped, "Laf!"

"Oh, please, like you don't do that." Laf rolled his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He licked his lips to fight back the grin, feigning his innocence.

"Remember that time you came to my place early in the morning and I asked you how drunk were that night? And you were like, 'I still have my pants on so not that drunk'?"

"... vaguely."

"Those weren't your pants."

He turned crimson and rolled onto his own bed. Mumbled something inaudible. He looked towards me, "What about you? Any girls… guys?"

It was my turn to blush, "uh, now? Uh, no. Few girls, couple guys. But, there was this one guy," _This one guy? Sonny was so much more than that,_ "but, uh, no, that's… that's… done."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"S'cool. So, I'm going to Peter's soon, I forgot something." I brushed it off, I didn't want that conversation right now.

"Can I come with? Wanna thank Peter for the bar, y'know?"

"Sure, what about you, Laf?"

The Frenchman gestured to his leg, "I would, but I can't really do much. I doubt my walking stick is gonna help up and down those stairs."

"That's fair." I shrugged.

"Give him my love, mon ami."

I nodded. I got dressed and walked with John to Peter's apartment, light conversation thrown between us. I kept my eyes on the pavement as he talked, not wanting to see how busy it was.

John buzzed for him to let us in, but there was no response. He couldn't have been out because the windows were open, he always shut them when he left the apartment. That was odd, why didn't he answer? We climbed the three flights of stairs and I put my key in the door to find it already unlocked. John burst it open and flopped onto the sofa.

"Hello?" I called.

"It's only us." John announced. Nothing.

I retreated to my old room and found my book lying neatly on the made bed, grabbing it and taking in the sight of the room. It looked practically untouched, as if no one had ever been in it. Peter must have cleaned it. I put the book in my bag and shut the bedroom door, walking over to the living room.

"Yo, Peter! Just wanna say thanks for what happened at the bar." John called. No response.

I joined him on the sofa, "Peter? Where you at?"

"Must be at the bar."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "it's his day off."

John shrugged and looked around the room, the same expression of confusion plastered across his face. He started to pace around as I bounced my knee, trying to think of where he could be. John stopped at the table.

"Alex…" He started, staring at a piece of paper.

"Yeah?"

"Read this."

He gave me the paper and I read it aloud, "'don't go in the bathroom, just call the police'."

"Wait here." He said, a serious tone taking over his usual playful persona. I didn't like it. It felt… wrong.

He opened the bathroom door slowly, I tugged on my sleeve to distract the shake in my hands. He took one look in the room before immediately jumping to action.

"¡Mierda! No, no, no. Alex, call an ambulance!" The panic in his voice was thick sparking the familiar sick feeling in my stomach.

"What?" I stuttered out, afraid to hear the answer.

"Just do it!"

I couldn't stand it anymore, I had to see what was going on, what was wrong, as much as my mind screamed for me to run. I entered the bathroom and my breath caught in my throat, my heart dropped. Peter lay in the tub, water still trickling into it, unconscious in a pool of red. John jumped from Peter's side and held both of my arms. I was frozen.

"Hey, hey, Alex, look at me. Don't look at him," my eyes were fixed on my cousin, his skin pale. _Lifeless. Gone. I couldn't lose another one_ , "no, no, look at me. It's gonna be alright."

I refocused my gaze onto John, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding, not until I felt it burn in my lungs, it was shaky, strained. I couldn't regulate my breathing, I was suffocating.

"Listen to me. He's got a pulse, but I need you to call an ambulance. Can you do that for me?"

I nodded softly, not trusting my balance. I stepped outside the bathroom and dialed 911 on the phone _he_ gave me, giving them the information, cursing every stutter, every slip up. _You're a fuck up, Alex_. Nine minutes. I could hear John on the phone through the door.

"Look, I need you to come… I know, I know, your leg… can you take the elevator? 'Kay, okay… uh, we'll meet you there… I'm sorry… I know. I-I can't do it, Laf. I can't go in… I'm scared… fuck. I don't know what to do," He sniffled and sighed, "I know, love you, too… 'Kay, bye… bye."

He walked out of the room and joined me, his face was red from where he had rubbed at it. His plaid shirt was gone leaving him in only a black t-shirt.

"He's… uh," he ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his neck, "he's… he's slit his wrists. I've wrapped them in my shirt, but- How long have we got?"

"Anytime now." I whispered, my voice betraying me.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't know," I locked eyes with the floor finding it very interesting all of a sudden, " _I_ didn't know. How could I _not_ know?"

"You've known him a week," he took my shaking hands in his and looked me deep in the eyes, "it wasn't your fault."

The buzzer rang and John let the paramedics in, standing aside and pointing them towards the bathroom, not looking at any of them. I stood there, useless. _Pathetic._ I clamped my eyes shut and leaned on the wall as they carried him out. My legs shook and I felt as though I might fall if it weren't for the wall's support. Now was not the time for an outburst. Not now. I concentrated on my breathing, trying so hard to steady it. _Not hard enough._

"Alex, we need to go." I opened my eyes at the sound of his voice, my vision disfigured as if looking through a fish-eye lens.

He walked me out of the apartment and got us a cab. He sat beside me, placing his hand on mine as it shook. His did, too. I couldn't focus. I couldn't hear over the blood pounding in my ear. My heart thudded in my chest. It felt so loud, I was sure that everyone in the cab could hear it, too. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. All I could see was him in that bath, it was scarred on the back of my eyelids, that image. _Water. Taking everything from me._ John rubbed circles on the back of my hand. I wanted to recoil at the touch but my mind was too busy, racing faster than I could decipher.

The cab pulled up at the hospital and payed the driver. We saw Laf at the entrance sat on an outside bench. _I needed to get out of the car, now. Need air._ Before I could, John handed me an envelope with my name written on it in cursive handwriting.

"This was on the table, too. You don't have to open it yet."

I nodded which he deemed as a good enough response before getting out. My hand was on the car door lock, I inhaled deeply and slowly before opening it and walking over to the Frenchmen. He stood, balancing on his walking stick.

"Have you heard anything?" John asked, glaring at the building.

"Non, they wouldn't tell me anything. You could try?"

"No," he blurted out, a look of fear in his eyes, his gaze snapping from the building to his best friend, "I-I mean, I need to wait out here."

"But, mon ami…"

" _Laf._ "

He sighed, "you're right… you're right. Are you okay, Alex? Stupid question, of course you are not."

My lip twitched upwards to try an reassure him I was okay. I wasn't okay. I couldn't breathe. _Please help me._

John sat on the bench outside with his head in his hands, "I need a drink."

I followed Laf inside to the waiting room. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. I didn't know how long we were there. My eyes were locked on a poster on the wall. I kept trying to focus on reading the words, to distract my racing thoughts. My vision got worse, the words wouldn't go in. I kept seeing him when I shut my eyes. I clutched the seat tightly as the room span. Or was it me? Was I spinning? Laf got up to see if there was any news for us. At the same time a doctor came into the room with a harrowing look on her face. _I knew that fucking face. Bad news. Mamá. Gone._

"Peter Lytton?" Her voice was soft but it rang in my ear.

 _Shit._ My throat was tight. _I couldn't, had to get out._ I stumbled out of the hospital ignoring Laf's calls, my legs not willing me to run. I couldn't hold back the tears as they spilt out, my whole body shook violently. _Don't be so pathetic, Hamilton._ I cried harder, my mind my worst enemy. It was right, I was pathetic. I slid my back against the cold, brick wall. Everything was happening too quick. It was too quick to process. _They always leave me_. Every time. _Every. Fucking. Time._ My breath caught, worse than the other times. I clutched my throat. _As if that's gonna help, dumbass. This was just like mamá. Like abuela. Like my whole fucking island._ I couldn't do this.

"Alex?" John was in front of me on the floor. Cold floor. Everything was cold. No life. _Shit, just stop! Mind, shut the fuck up!_ Everything needed to stop.

I didn't answer, I couldn't talk. I sobbed harder as I shook, I put my head in my hands.

"Can you breathe for me? Inhalar y exhalar. Like you told me. Cuatro, ocho, siete. Breathe in for four, hold for eight, and out for seven."

I tried, but it wasn't working. He counted with me but to no avail. It was too much. I was weak, I couldn't handle it. I shook my head in frustration, my chest hurt so badly. Agonisingly painful. I wanted my mamá, she knew what to do. _Why did she have to go?_

"Can I touch you?" He asked, his voice was cautious as if handling a deer in the headlights.

I hesitated but nodded, I needed to ground myself, I didn't know what else to do. He sat next to me and I leaned into him, my eyes clamped shut. He wrapped his arms around my slowly. I flinched at the contact, feeling trapped.

"It's okay, it's gonna be okay. Just… put your head on my chest and listen to my heartbeat. Can you try that?"

I moved my head and listened, it was steady against my own… _mine was too fast._ He stroked my hair and I started to relax, slowly. _Mamá used to do that._ He hummed a tune to me, it was soft in my ear.

"'Cause we gon' be alright, don't fall apart. 'Cause we gon' be alright, don't lose your heart. We can make it through today, there's a light inside to guide us. One step further from afraid…" he sang trailing off at the end.

I spoke for the first time but my voice was hoarse from crying, "I'm sorry."

He seemed startled by my presence as if he had forgotten, but he relaxed, "you can't help having a panic attack."

"Panic attack?"

"Yeah, it's what you just had, you never had one before? The first ones are rough, well… they're all rough. Rougher. God, that sounds kinky…"

I shook my head against his chest, "I've had them before, I didn't know what they were. Why did you stop singing?"

"Oh… uh, I haven't finished the lyrics. Still figuring it all out."

"You wrote that?"

"Uh huh, just now."

"I liked it." I mused.

"Thanks."

I wiped my face with my sleeve and sniffed, "I kind of left Laf in there."

"Can you stand?"

"I don't know."

"It's okay, I'll ask Laf to get you some chocolate."

"I'm fine." _I'm not fine._

He rubbed my arm gently, "it helps after an attack. Trust me."

His face has red with tear tracks, I felt a pang of guilt. He was the one who found him. He had just lost one of his good friends and he was comforting _me_. I nodded and closed my eyes again, too tired to do anything else. _This was gonna be rough._


	7. Chapter Seven

**I'm so sorry this chapter is so late. It's finally done. It's a full feels trip. Thank you for being so patient and thank you MindAtWork for helping me with a lot of the details and for helping me make my ideas into something actually readable. Enjoy!**

* * *

The suit I wore was tight against my skin, the tie no better. It was close to choking me. The envelope lay unopened on my desk, I didn't want to face it as much as I wanted answers. I tied my greasy hair back into a low ponytail and looked in the mirror. I looked worse than I did the day I came. Purple under eyes, patchy stubble, tear tracks down my hollow cheeks. I straightened my tie.

There were three knocks on the door; it took me back to that night. He was saying goodbye. My cousin was saying goodbye to me and I didn't realise. I could have stopped him, _I could have stayed._

"Alex, mon ami. It is time to go." Laf sounded through the door. His voice was strained. Peter's death had hit him hard. It had hit all of us hard.

I inhaled deeply and walked out, not caring about my appearance. John and Laf were in black suits similar to mine. The former had taken my measurements and given them to the guy he was dating as I didn't want to see anyone, couldn't see anyone. The other roommate had postponed his arrival. He was supposed to arrive any day. I was too tired to worry about it.

John squeezed Laf's hand and put his other on the small of my back as we left. I never saw John cry after the time at the hospital, he seemed to go on, looking out for me and Laf. It didn't stop the latter from fussing over him, always asking if he was okay.

I locked myself in my room most days, writing my way through notebook after notebook, never touching the envelope. It sat like an artifact on my desk, a mystery within hands reach, but I couldn't touch it. Laf had temporarily closed the bar, it was to be reopened after the funeral. He was determined to pick up more shifts, he wanted to keep it running in Peter's memory.

I sat through the service with my eyes fixed on the ground. Zoning out seemed like the least painful option. I absently listened to the speeches, the hymns, the prayers. _What was the use in praying now?_ I bobbed my knee up and down, longing for it to all be over. My cousin had touched so many lives and so many had come for the send off. I knew no one aside from my roommates, everyone was a stranger on this foreign land that I had found myself on.

Afterwards, we went to the bar for the after-funeral reception. Laf introduced us to the man he was dating, Hercules. I tried to be polite, but couldn't bring myself to any more social interaction than necessary. It got too much and I slipped myself away in the backroom. I borrowed one of the notebooks already in there for John. I'd get him a new one. The room in itself showed how much Peter did for us all, even in the short time I knew him. He made a safe place for John, even though he didn't have to; he had every right to kick him out. But he showed kindness instead. Before I knew it, tears were falling down my face and onto the paper I was writing on, they smudged the ink. I took off my tie and let my head fall back on the wall, closing my eyes tight. No more tears. _Please_... no more. I missed mamá. I missed abuela. I missed Peter. I wanted them back, just for five more minutes.

I heard the door open and saw John joining me on the floor.

"Hey." John said, his voice soft.

"Hey." I croaked.

"I'm gonna show everyone something soon. Do you wanna come?"

"I will. I just needed a minute." I wiped my face on the sleeve of my suit, "how did you know I was in here?"

"Uh, well, this is the place that's quiet and without people, and you can let it all out. It's safe in here." He looked around the room, his eyes glinting with sadness.

"I'm sorry for your loss." I sniffed.

"He was your cousin."

"I didn't know him, but he was so… so…"

"Amazing? Kind? Pure?" he sighed, "that man was a saint."

I bit at a scab on my lip, reopening the wound, "did… did he ever show any signs?"

"I suppose, in a way. He always kept to himself, he was never really… happy. I guess- I guess I just didn't want to accept that I might lose another one." His eyes fell to his fidgeting hands.

"Another?" I pried, instantly regretting asking a question like that. _Insensitive prick._ I looked at him, "sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. Just let me get a drink first while Laf isn't looking. Want anything? I won't tell if you don't." He asked getting up.

"Uh, I don't mind."

"How about we share a beer? That way I won't get too drunk. See? I'm being responsible. Emphasis on too."

"Sounds good to me."

He disappeared from the backroom, presumably to behind the bar. He returned with the drink and sat across from me, legs crossed. He cleared his throat and stared at the wall behind me.

"Okay, so… Uh, basically…" he paused to drink from the bottle and passed it to me, "my mamá, she- she killed herself," I opened my mouth, but he shushed me, "don't say you're sorry, I've heard enough of that. It was just after I came here… to America, that is. I'm Puerto Rican, moved to South Carolina when I was… uh… well, mamá happened when I was nine, so, um… eight? Just before mamá, so... yeah, eight."

 _Well, shit_. He had baggage, too. He was so young. This must have been so hard on him, yet he seemed fine. _Peter seemed fine_.

I took a gulp of the beer, no stranger to the taste, "that sucks. Nevisian, myself, but my mamá, she was Puerto Rican, too."

"Ah, should have known, a handsome caribbean prince."

I nearly spit out the drink, "I'm sorry… what?"

"Yeah, I mean, look at you, you're hot," he covered his face, "I don't know why I'm saying this, this isn't my first drink of the day. Sober me is _so_ gonna regret saying that."

Was he hitting on me… me… at my cousin's funeral? I felt the heat rise in my cheeks and took another drink from the bottle before handing it back to him. He downed the rest of it.

"Sorry, we gotta go." He side-smiled. I didn't miss the pink of his cheeks.

We walked out of the backroom and ran into Laf, his face was thick with grief.

"Where have you been?" He asked, looking at us both.

"Backroom, we were only talking, don't worry." John hid the empty bottle behind his back… badly.

"And drinking?" He sighed, softening his look, "I'm letting you off, it's been a rough day. Can you still do the thing?"

"I'm moderately sober."

"I take that as a no? Whatever, you did good, mon ami." He patted him on the back and shook hands with multiple people in black suits.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Well… uh, you'll… you'll see."

I quirked an eyebrow at his response and he gestured to the white sheet hanging on the wall. He nodded to Laf who stood beside it. He pulled the sheet down once the bar had quietened to reveal a mural of my cousin, the detail was immaculate. I felt the tears forming in my eyes. I looked at John, my mouth open.

"You hate it, don't you?" He fiddled with a curl falling on his back.

"You… you did this?"

"Yeah."

"I could kiss you."

"Please do." He muttered under his breath.

I smirked at him and pulled him into a hug, "maybe next time."

"Awh, disappointed." He pouted, wrapping his arms around me.

"Thank you, it's beautiful."

"I miss him."

"Me, too."

He squeezed me tighter, the same way Peter did. I felt myself grow sick at the comparison.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine, I'm always okay. I'm the king of okay... No, don't call me that actually."

"I appreciate this."

"Just wanted to do my bit."

We waited until everybody had left before we began to tidy up, ready for when the new staff would arrive. I couldn't work here again. I'd help out if Laf needed it, but I couldn't all the time. _Too much._

"Do you want to go home, mon ami?" Laf asked me.

I nodded, "sorry. I know I should help."

"Nonsense. John can go, too. I won't be long." He half-smiled at me and gestured for us to leave.

The walk home was silent, neither me nor John knowing quite what to say. We opened the door and he poured us both a coffee. I thanked him and sat on the floor. He sat behind me on the sofa, fiddling with my ponytail.

"Don't, my hair's gross." I mumbled, conscious of the state I had left it in.

"You need to shower, it's been a week." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I whipped my head around to face him, "I- I can't."

His eyes were full of sympathy, "Alex."

I looked at the ground and drank from my cup, prolonging the inevitable conversation I could tell was arising. I felt the nerves in my stomach knocking me sick at the thought of the shower. Water. Taking everything from me. The hurricane took my island; the bath took Peter. The cold wet that consumed all life in its path. I couldn't bare it. I gripped the cup tighter.

"Alex," he said again, his voice even softer as he twisted a strand of my dark hair, "you're getting in your head. C'mon, let me help you."

"I'm fine."

He sighed, "please? I'll- how about I come with you? That fair?"

"What?"

"I'll come with you for a shower. Nothing else. Just a shower. That way I'm there if you need me and you won't be alone."

"But, I don't know…" I faced him again, doubt flooding my mind at the idea.

He smiled, "you forget… I'm from an island, too. I don't like being alone either."

I scanned his eyes for any trace of what he was thinking, failing in my search. I let out an embarrassingly shaky breath, "fine. But only a quick one."

"Success! Okay, les'go."

He downed the rest of his drink and jumped to his feet, his hand reaching out for mine. I stared at it, noticing the moon-shaped crescents dented into his palms.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

His smile faltered slightly, "of course, like I said, I'm okay. Don't worry about me. Now… time to do this, the longer you wait the more time there is for you to get in your head."

"You're contradicting yourself, you've already told me I am in my head."

"Well… more time for you to get even more in your head," he frowned, "stop distracting me, let's do this."

I complied to his demands despite the bubbling nerves in my stomach. We used his and Laf's bathroom instead of mine, it was noticeably messier. The sink area was split for each man's belongings. Laf's side was covered in hair products and fragrances, whereas John's side was bare aside from a razor, some body spray, a toothbrush and a few hair bands. He went back into his room, returning with a few towels and placing them on the radiator.

He stripped down and I followed suit, though considerably less confidently. The close proximity of the room alone made my face burn. Every inch of his back was covered in freckles. He had a few scratches and scars, too. They looked like they were joining them up: a dot to dot.

"Where did you get those?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh, I'm not sure about the scratches… it's a… thing, I don't know. But… uh, the scars… I think one is from a fight, another from- hmm, I don't know actually. Knowing me, I probably fell out of a tree or something like that, I can't remember. Maybe family stuff? I dunno," he chewed his cheek as he tried to recall the memories, looking at his back in the mirror.

"Family stuff?"

"... uh, yeah. Either siblings… or my dad. Buckets of daddy issues that I won't bore you with. Come on, let's get this over with, amigo. In and out, I promise," his grin returned, "maybe I should wash my mind with soap while I'm at it."

He turned on the shower and pulled his arm quickly back when the cold water hit it. I held my breath automatically; he took my hand and squeezed it.

"It's okay. You're okay."

I stood nervously his bathroom. He turned to me and smiled, it was somewhat comforting but my eyes were locked on the shower. That was what took everything from me, the cold, wet streams. No escape. He saw the fear in my eyes and blocked my view, though the sound of it hitting the porcelain tub didn't miss my eardrums. He pulled his hair out of its bun and moved behind me, carefully untwisting the knotted hair which rested at the back of my neck. He was gentle, never tugging at it. He tested the water again, satisfied with it, and hopped in.

He winced at first before becoming accustomed to the feeling, I knew that feeling, mine didn't usually go away. He held his hand out to me and I took it. I felt the embarrassment rise in me as my hand shook. He took most of the impact from the shower knowing my anxiety. I stepped as far away from it as I could in the compacted space, the spray still reaching me as goosebumps surfaced over my tan skin. His hair was still curly even soaked. He half smiled again and reached for the shampoo, washing his own hair before turning to me. I twisted around and let him massage the honey scented liquid into my hair. I squeezed my eyes shut as my breath hitched in my throat. He whispered reassurance in my ear, drowning out the sound of the rattling pipes.

He grabbed the shower head and warned me before rinsing out the bubbles. I inhaled deeply and held it before letting it out, following the instructions he had given me at the hospital. The hospital. Peter. Bath. Water. Gone. I gasped and he turned me around to face him. I felt him lean me against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. I couldn't tell the difference between my tears and the water. They merged into a huge wet mess.

He moved for the conditioner and applied it to my hair while I pressed my forehead into his shoulder. He waited a few minutes before retrieving the shower head once again. He gently lifted my chin up to put my head back, limiting the amount of water going in my face. I closed my eyes again and grabbed his muscled arm, afraid that I might fall, grounding myself. He applied his own conditioner and waited, holding me. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. I felt my face heat up and fidgeted.

He passed me a bottle of shower gel. Yup… I can do that bit on my own. I washed myself hastily and we swapped places so that I was getting the most impact from the shower. His warm skin brushed against my waist as we manoeuvred in the little space we had, it sent shivers down my spine and I felt the awkwardness levels rise even higher, yet it still felt so normal. He took my shaking hand in his once again as I rinsed myself clean, I wanted it to be over.

"You can get out if you want, I won't be a minute. Wait in here though, I'll dry your hair." He must have read my mind.

I nodded and grabbed the towel, grateful that it was warm, to wipe my face. The droplets clung to my skin and I shivered at the impact of the cold air. It was too much like home. I sat on the toilet seat with my head in my hands as I desperately tried to clear my thoughts of the images. The cries, the children's screams. The deafening silence that rang through the air after the storm had passed. No one left. No one. Nothing.

He finished and grabbed the other towel, wrapping it around himself and twisting his hair up. He dried his face and hands before plugging in the dryer. I stayed sat on the toilet as he sprayed a mist over my head.

"Tell me if it's too hot," he said, testing the heat on his hand before tackling the wet mop of hair.

He ran a comb through it as he went, he was surprisingly gentle and the comb went through easier than I thought it would. He was finished and rubbed my shoulders.

"Feel any better?" he asked.

"A bit. Than- thank you."

"De nada. Go on, go get into your beloved sweats. I bet I can make you an awesome hot chocolate. And, Sherlock?"

I smiled at him, "sounds good to me."

I pulled on my favourite green hoodie and sweatpants. He waited in the living room with blankets and two mugs of hot chocolate topped with cream and marshmallows, like the one Peter had made John at the bar. I joined him on the floor as he reached to press play on the next episode. It buffered before playing. John took a sip of his drink.

"You've got a little something there," I chuckled.

"What? Where?"

"Right there," I pointed to it.

He wiped his face but missed the spot, "did I get it?"

"Not quite. Here, let me."

I reached and wiped it off of his nose for him. He licked it off of my finger.

"Dude, why?"

He shrugged and the devilish smirk returned to his face, "I would hate to waste such good cream."

He licked his lip and looked away, his shoulders shook with a silent giggle. I put my head in my hands and laughed.

"¡Ay dios mío! You are ridiculous."

"You love it, though," he grinned at me, "I like your laugh, you should do it more."

We continued to watch the episode and I solved the problem before the characters again, much to John's astonishment. He was convinced I had somehow cheated, despite there being no way it could be true. We finished the drinks and the door unlocked.

"Hey, Laf." I greeted, the eyes of both John and me still firmly fixed on the screen.

"Alejandro?" It wasn't Laf's voice.

My head snapped towards the door. It couldn't be. I didn't believe it. I stood up abruptly.

"… you're alive," we gasped in unison.

Sonny. He stood in the threshold and dropped his bags. We engulfed each other into a tight embrace and cried. Really cried.

"I thought you were dead." My voice cracked.

"Me, too."

"How did you-"

"The lotto. My cousin won, but he stayed to rebuild the stuff back home, and he got a second date with Vanessa so, y'know how much he was into her. He gave me the dough and I came here. I can't believe it's you, Alex."

"He's alive?"

"Yes."

"For real?"

"For real, for real."

We held each other and John excused himself to give us a moment which I smiled at, grateful.

"Who was that?" Sonny asked.

"John, he's our roommate. Laf, too. He'll be here soon."

"They cool?"

"Uh huh. You'll like them." I smiled at memorises of the kindness my friends had already shown me.

John came and helped with the bags and we stayed up, waiting for Laf to come back from the clean up. We all chatted and Sonny and John got to know each other. They got on like a house on fire. John was pleased to see that he also spoke Spanish.

"I can terrorise Laf more now!"

"Not so fast, he speaks French, too." I smirked at his excitement.

"Yeah, but Spanish is better."

"Ditto. Spanish is my home language. The language of my people. It's dope." Sonny gleamed with pride.

"Where are you from?" John asked.

"The single greatest little place in the Caribbean. Dominican Republic, my man. I grew up in Nevis, though."

"Psh, Puerto Ricans are better. Although, I like Nevisians, too," he winked at me.

The door opened again, this time the actual Laf entered. His face was solemn with grief and he didn't even look up from the ground. He walked straight to one of the cupboards and pulled out a bottle of wine.

John's jaw dropped, "dude! How did you know where my stash is?"

"Oh please, I know you have at least six stashes already. You are hardly going to miss one bottle. We will share." Laf rolled his eyes.

"Who are you and where were you last summer when I wanted to go out?"

"Please, John. I'm tired… I am sad… I am French. Shut up and drink."

John only sighed and held his hand out for the bottle. Laf took his seat on the sofa before noticing the other person in our company.

"Forgive my manners, but who are you, mon ami?"

"Sonny, the new guy." He answered.

"They know each other." John announced between chugs of the bottle, gesturing to me and Sonny.

Laf glared at John through his tired eyes, his hand running through his hair. It bounced back in place as if he had never touched it in the first place.

"I meant share with glasses, my dear, sweet friend," he chided. His attention turned to me, "it is good that you have someone you know well now, as I have this idiot."

"Rude." John crossed his arms and pouted.

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes. I am not an idiot. I actually have a high IQ. If you wish to insult me, dear, sweet friend, more accurate adjectives to describe me would be: contemptible, abhorrent, disobedient, obnoxiously loud, indecisive fucking dick. But never ever question my intelligence," John's face was red after his rant, but he wore that smirk. It was contagious. He continued, "now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed, g'night."

"It's only nine, are you okay?" I asked, Laf too stunned at his response to say anything.

He smiled at me. The corners of his eyes reflected in the light, shining as he blinked away the tears that threatened to spill. He looked away from me, "it's been a long week. Sorry, I'm just really tired. Probably the wine. I'm fine. See you tomorrow."

"Buenas noches." I understood that he wanted some alone time, so I dropped it.

"Night." Laf chorused with Sonny.

I watched John walk away, a stumble in his step as he reached for the wall in need of support. He wiped his face on his sleeve and shut the door behind him. Laf's head was swaying and I could tell he was exhausted.

"Laf, you can go to bed."

"Non, Alex. John wants some time alone, I can stay up." He said between a yawn.

"Take my bed, it's fine. I don't wanna have to carry you, go on." I insisted.

He hesitated, "okay. Just this once. Bonne nuit, guys."

I waited for the door of my bedroom to click before I turned to Sonny. He looked as charming as ever; I remembered the nights on the beach when it was just me and him. It hurt to think about. His eyes shifted when I looked at him.

"Hi." I started.

"What'd I miss?"

"Uh, it's kinda complicated. We'd just got back from my cousin's funeral when you got here so… that's why everything is all tense at the moment." This sucked.

He reached his hand out to rest it on my shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Lexi. That's… wow, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. Besides, it wouldn't be my first loss, eh?" I gave a hollow laugh.

He rubbed circles on my shoulder absentmindedly, "I thought you were gone. I know we left on not so good terms, but… you were my best friend and I thought I'd lost you forever. And then the storm, I..."

I winced at the mention of it, "I know. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have left. You were my best friend, too. Best friends first, right?"

"Always. Can we start again? No more leaving or drama or any of that yucky stupid teenager shit, just the friendship we had when we were kids climbing those trees in Abuela's garden. The good days."

"I would like that."


	8. Chapter Eight

Adapting to life around Sonny was strange after not seeing him for so long. I felt a deep confusion that I couldn't shake. Everyday I woke up and saw him in my room like I had done so many times on the island; I felt happy. But I still thought about John. I didn't know what to do.

I lay awake in my bed and stared at the ceiling. I still hadn't opened Peter's note and by now I wasn't sure I wanted to. Weeks had passed, I'd started lessons; I barely had time to worry about anything else. I'd started getting dreams again, they woke me in the night. They weren't nightmares, I wasn't scared. They were just… sad. I was sad when I woke up again. Every time I walked into the bathroom and saw the bath, images of him flashed across my vision.

Laf's shifts had picked up and I heard him getting back. It was after three. He sniffed and I heard him rooting through the cupboards. Cautious not to wake Sonny, I opened the bedroom door and made my way to the kitchen. I wasn't going to go back to sleep and had already thought of getting up to get some studying in. I might as well have greeted my friend, too.

Directing myself through the darkness, I found that it wasn't Laf who I had heard. It was John. He had tight curls glued to the sides of his face with tears, his features dimly lit up by the lamp on the wall.

"John, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Surprised by my sudden appearance, he wiped his eyes and coughed, "nothing. It's fine. Go back to bed."

His voice was hoarse and I could tell he'd been crying for a while. Behind him on the counter lay an empty glass next to a bottle of whisky.

"John," I started.

"Don't look at me like that."

I was confused, "like what?"

"Like I matter to you," his tone grew cold and he turned back to pouring his drink.

I stared at him in disbelief, "John, of course you matter to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"Go back to bed," he downed his glass, "it's late. You should sleep."

"No." I set my jaw, I wasn't going to drop it.

"Alex, go. Why are you even up anyway?"

"I asked first."

He laughed dryly and took the bottle to the couch, abandoning the glass. He was pale, even in the poor lighting. He looked ill and I realised how little I had seen of him since the funeral. He lay there on the sofa facing the ceiling as I had done in my bed earlier. His fingers danced on the glass of the bottle in thought. I didn't want to move from where I was. I wanted to help him, but I didn't know how. Instead I waited for him to talk.

"Are you going to stand there till the crack of dawn, 'Lex?" His accent was slipping with his tiredness. I saw the bags forming under his eyes.

"I'll wait for you to tell me what's wrong. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

He rolled his eyes, "of course I know that. God, you sound like Laf. Maybe I just don't want to talk, maybe I just want you to go back to bed so that I can drink my whisky free of your judgement."

"I'm not… I'm not judging you, John. You're my friend and I'm trying to be a good one for you."

He paused for a moment, picking at his fingers. His eyes brimmed with more tears that I could see him trying to hold back. He got up and started putting his shoes on.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm going for a walk." He wasn't himself.

"I'm not letting you go out when you're like this. Anything could happen to you."

"Cruel world," he spat.

I was angry with him, but the anger was overwhelmed with worry.

"Then I'm coming with you."

He sighed and nodded, still tying his laces. I put on my own shoes and grabbed my coat and keys.

The air was cold against my skin, even colder because of the late hour. The music still played loud from the clubs and cars honked in the streets. It was so different. He glanced around at the city and shook his head, guiding me away from the buildings and into a small park.

We walked in silence, nothing could be heard but the crunch of frosted leaves in the depths of the woods.

"Sorry," he said quietly, "sorry I acted like that."

"It's okay, I just," I couldn't help myself, "what happened?"

He sniffed again, "my dad called me today."

I didn't say anything. I could tell he wanted to say more and I gave him the space to.

"He, uh, he said he was moving back to New York and he needed to see me about something. My siblings will be here, too."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

He faced me, "my siblings moving nearer to me is a good thing."

"And your dad?"

"No. No, it's… it's complicated. You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"It becomes a problem when you are a racist, homophobic man and have a Puerto Rican, gay son. That's all I'm saying." He half smiled.

I stopped in my tracks. My inner impulsive idiot took control of me and I kissed him, " _never_ be ashamed of who you are and where you came from. Ever."

He blinked at me, apparently in shock, then he kissed me again, hungrier. I leaned into it, moaning low, hands snaking his waist. I could taste the whisky on his lips. I wanted to kiss him forever, to take away his pain. He broke away first.

"I've wanted to do that so bad." He grinned, his previous mood growing smaller in his eyes.

I processed what I just did and laughed, "me, too, actually. I like you."

"Me, too."

Our moment was interrupted by the buzz of John's phone, he frowned and answered it on speaker. It was Laf.

"Where are you?" he sounded worried.

"I'm on a walk, I'll be back soon."

"Alone?"

"Nah, I'm with Alex. It's fine."

Laf sighed, "okay. Well, are you okay? Why are you walking at this time?"

"I'll tell you in the morning, go to bed. Don't wait up. Night, love you."

"'Kay. Love you, too. Night." He replied, sounding more tired than ever before.

He hung up. John and I stared at each other for a moment not knowing quite what to do.

"C'mon. We best get back," John said finally.

"Yeah."

We set off through the dark, back towards the city and found the suite. The room was pleasantly warm in comparison to the cold of the night. The lights were out and the place was quiet. John fell back onto the sofa and glanced at the bottle he had left on the floor. I picked it up before he could and put it back in the cupboard.

"You've had enough tonight." I said.

He opened his mouth to protest but nodded, "I… uh, thanks. You're right. Sorry."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Why I found you in the middle of the night upset and drinking, for starters."

"I told you, it's my dad."

I pressed further, "you've been like this for weeks, it's not just because of the phone call."

He looked down to his hands, he was picking at the skin. His eyes found mine for a moment but flashed back down, "it's just… I… I miss him, okay? Peter used to help me about my dad and other stuff, and now he's gone… and, and I knew something was up but I didn't do anything. He's… he's not coming back…"

His eyes watered again but he wiped the tears away with the palms of his hands.

"Sorry," he whispered.

I sat beside him on the sofa and pulled him into a hug. I let him cling to my hoodie as he fought back the sobs.

"It's okay to cry, you know, it's healthier." I rubbed his back.

He sniffed, "not where I come from."

I gripped him tighter in our embrace and we stayed like that for a while. We didn't talk, we just lay back on the sofa. It wasn't long before he began to snore softly, his head resting on my chest after I had moved to lying on the couch. His hair was damp and he smelled of whisky. I twisted a curl between my fingers over and over again as I watched the sun begin to rise through the open curtains. The slowly rising light revealed to me just how pale he looked. I tucked his hair behind his ear and waited.

I didn't feel like sleeping. The sun was rising and there was no point now. I had class in a few hours but I just wanted to stay here. He looked peaceful as he slept, his worry and sadness locked away whilst he enjoyed the sweet escape of dreams. I wondered what was going on with him. He'd acted as though he was unphased by everything; I should have known it was all a front.

He stirred after a few more minutes, the sun still low on the horizon. He woke and rubbed his eyes.

"Hi," he croaked.

"Hey," I whispered back.

"Sorry, didn't mean to fall asleep."

"You don't have to apologise, it's okay."

"What time is it?"

I checked my phone which had made a new home on the floor, "uh, half five. Have classes today?"

"I.. don't know. I don't think so, what day is it?"

"Monday."

"I don't have classes Monday, you?"

"Just one. It starts in a few hours."

We stayed as we were for a bit longer, the comfort of having the other there was too appealing to resist. He drew patterns on my hoodie sleeve with his finger absentmindedly.

"Have I ever told you that you're super hot? Like, damn."

I laughed, "yeah, yeah, you have."

"I'm saying it again. 'Cause… like… damn."

I pulled his face up towards mine and kissed him again. His mouth was warm, the caress of his lips soft against my own. He tasted tentatively with his tongue and I opened my mouth with a low moan. I felt his hand brush against my chest and touch my face. My own hand found his hair again and pulled him closer to me.

"Good morning," Laf coughed.

John and I jumped at the sudden announcement; we hadn't heard him come out of his bedroom.

"Jesus! Bit of warning might have been nice!" John put his hand on his heart dramatically.

"Oh no, don't mind me, please, carry on. You've won me a bet. By all means continue."

I could feel the redness of my cheeks blooming, "wait… what bet?"

Laf smiled, "Sonny bet it would take you two till Christmas, I bet after a month. He owes me ten dollars. Bye! No sex on the couch!"

He walked into the bathroom with a bounce in his step after his discovery.

"I'm going to kill him and make it look like an accident," John hid his face on my hoodie.

"Should we just hide forever, or…" I pressed the hand that wasn't still in John's hair over my eyes.

"It's the only reasonable solution."

I checked the time again, "I've gotta go."

"Don't leave me with them! I don't think they have class either," he pouted.

"It's okay… just… I don't know, hide under the bed."

"Laf doesn't fall for that anymore."

"I'm not gonna ask."

"It's for the best."

I changed quickly while Sonny still slept. My bag lay next to my bed and I thanked past me for being prepared. I searched the floor of the room for my shoes before finally remembering that I had kicked them off next to the sofa earlier. I shut the bedroom door behind me quietly and grabbed them.

John still lay in the same place, typing into his phone, pausing to think. I watched him hit backspace furiously and start typing again. I stood, leaning against the doorframe of the hall separating the living area to the bedrooms, watching him for a moment. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying, tired and bloodshot. His hair spilled against the arm of the sofa, a halo of innocence. I wanted to stay. He caught my eye.

"What?" His face reflected confusion but a smile played on his lips.

I fiddled with the strap of my bag, "I… uh, nothing. I'll see you later."

"Later."

I spent the entire lecture listening to information I already knew and jotting down a few notes. I could at least make it look like I was interested. Time seemed to be moving at a painfully slow pace, I tapped my pen on the notebook to entertain myself. When I left class I went back to the suite with a headache beginning to form. Should have slept.

I rubbed my temples as I waited for the coffee to brew, realising it would be the first of the day. Looking through to the living area, I saw scrap pieces of paper laying, grotesque, across the floor. In the middle of it all, I saw John's laptop but he himself was nowhere to be seen. I allowed myself to chuckle at the sight; it was so him.

"Yo, Alex!" Sonny announced as he burst through the front door. I didn't know he wasn't in the apartment to begin with.

"Yeah?" I twisted to face him, perplexed. Nothing good usually happened when Sonny said these words, it meant he had an idea or a plan.

He smiled, noticing my look of interest and equally of dread, "chillax, you're gonna love this."

He handed me the bag he was carrying and I opened it hesitantly. Inside: a jar of cinnamon and a sheet of paper with scribbled handwriting on it.

"Wait…"

His face twisted into that of both happiness and an underlying sadness, "I found Abuela's secret recipes in my suitcase… the cuz must've put it in there… and I know you love cinnamon…"

"Thank you. But, you know you've gotta make the stuff, I'm helpless when it comes to the kitchen. But seriously, thank you. I think we all need this."

He laughed, "yeah, I know, I remember the coconut cookies. Nah, I'll make us all the coffees. The guys aren't gonna know what hit them."

He took the bag back off of me and placed the cinnamon on the counter and prepared cups, pouring the ready coffee into each one. At that moment, John returned from his room with his phone pressed to his ear.

"You're still friends with Peggy, right? What? No, I'm still gay, doofus... Nah, can you give her sister my number? Either… Both if you want, I've got a couple of projects to show them... what? No Marcy! I swear I'm gonna have to rinse your mouth out with soap next time I see you… I'm joking, I'm joking! Jeez… okay, can you do that for me? Thanks… I'll see you when you move… tell Mimi she's my favourite… joking! Okay... love you, too. Bye… bye," he ended the call and grinned, "damn sister. Good thing I love her."

Sonny gave John his cup, "this, my man, is the single greatest coffee you will ever taste. Ever. In your whole life."

"He's not wrong. It's the good shit," I confirmed, sipping at my own. I missed his coffee so much, perfect mix of coffee and cinnamon. Perfect.

John took a sip, sceptical. The look was soon wiped from his face when he tasted the beverage, "yo…"

Straightening his posture in pride, Sonny said, "exactly. What did I say? Best coffee ever. Is Laf up?"

"Yeah, but you'll be lucky if you get anything out of him, he's on the phone to his boyfriend," he rolled his eyes.

"I'll give him his coffee."

He grabbed the other mug and took it to the bedroom. I nodded towards the mess all over the floor to which John's ears burned red.

"Oh, sorry," he started, "I was just… I figured out some more stuff for the EP. I'm gonna ask some old friends to help me with it. Just phoned one of my sisters."

"That's great! How many siblings are you hiding?" I asked, interested.

"Just four: Martha, oldest after me, but everyone calls her Marcy; then you've got James, he's a bit of a loner, smart kid though; and his twin Henry, well, Harry, he's the family's last hope; and then there's Mimi, the youngest, sweetest girl you'll ever meet, hates it when people call her Mary."

"I have a brother called James, too, actually. Haven't seen him since… God, just after my mamá…" I cut myself off, "he's in England, that's what I last heard."

"Sucks that you haven't seen him in so long, I don't think I could cope that long, I love them too much for my own damn good," he smiled to himself, "turns out we have more in common than I thought, 'Lex."

"Yeah, I guess so."

He started picking up the sheets from the floor and putting them into a blue folder. I felt awkward. We had kissed, and I could tell that we both felt the tension in the room.

I walked over to him and helped him with picking up the sheets. I wanted to kiss him again, his lips were soft against the roughness of my own. I wanted it. Needed it.

"Thanks," he muttered, rereading a sheet he just picked up, "hey, can I borrow that pen a sec?"

"What pen?" I asked, confused.

He reached his hand out, grabbed a pen that was behind my ear, letting his hand linger there for a moment, "uh… this one."

I nodded, the close proximity disabling my ability to speak. First for everything.

"Thanks…"

He took the pen and leant against the wall, scribbling out a few words and replacing them, scribbling them out again. He groaned, "for the love of God! I had it! Ugh, words don't fail me now."

I found my voice again, "what's up?"

"You're super good with words, right? What rhymes with liberty and links with the theme of it?"

I thought for a moment, "uh… try free."

"Free? Free, free, free. Uh… what do you mean when..." his eyes lit up, "no! That's it… wait. Slain for your liberty… please explain what you mean when you say that we're free? No… too long. Natives were slain for your liberty… please explain whatchu mean… damn it."

"Please explain what you mean by 'The Land of the Free'... maybe?"

"Yes! That's it! God, I've been racking my brain for that part for weeks! I could kiss you."

"Please do," I laughed, half-joking half-serious.

"Oh, I see what you did there, that was real cute. The whole twist round thing. Clever, real clever," he grinned.

I looked away, but I couldn't wipe the smirk from my own face. He advanced towards me and kissed me for a third time, longer, needier. I cupped his cheek and pushed myself against him; his hand travelled to the small of my back and he pressed me against the wall. He was gentle, careful, cautious. I wanted more. I knotted my fist in his shirt, pulling him harder against me. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and then his arms looped around my neck, gathering me against him. He got the hint.

"Are you kidding me? I lost the bet? Son of a French lady!" Sonny complained from the doorway of the bedroom.

John jumped again, "stop… doing that! I have a weak heart! I don't think it can take much more of these sudden appearances. I'll put a bell on you both, you and the French one!"

He fell against the wall beside me, clutching his shirt, trying yet again to prove his point. I stared at Sonny, waiting to see some sort of reaction. He just looked annoyed.

"I'm ten dollars short now, come on, Alex. We're friends, you could have won me a bet by waiting till just after Christmas!" he threw his hands up, but he smiled, "you two are cute though, but like, ten dollars, but also I ship it, but also ten dollars, but my cousin won the lotto and you two are super duper super cute, but… ten dollars."

He sighed and grabbed his bag, pulling out the ten dollar note. He threw it at Laf who now stood with a victorious grin etched onto his face, "I was right, this way was so much better than demanding my winnings."

"Are you finished your little internal debate now, Sonny?" John asked, his face growing a more prominent shade of pink.

"Only if you promise not to break Alex's heart," he folded his arms across his chest, an attempt to look intimidating. Attempt. He was failing.

"Not likely, he's more likely to break me."

I scoffed, "hey, I am here, you know?"

"Awh, it's cute when he's annoyed." John mused.

"You should see him when you mention his…"

"Don't you dare say what I think you're gonna say, Sonny de la Vega." I started, but it was pointless.

"... height."

"I'm taller than you!"


	9. Chapter Nine

**Hey! New chap for you people. Let me know what you think, and if you have any requests I am always open to them Enjoy!**

* * *

I woke up on the sofa next to John. He had an arm under me and his laptop was emitting a painfully bright light in contrast to the dark room. It was half past two in the morning. Sonny and Laf were on the floor asleep. I rolled over to face John, expecting him to be asleep, too. He was typing into his phone again.

"Hi," I whispered.

"Oh, hey. You're awake," he continued to type quickly.

I nodded, still sleepy, too tired to use my voice.

He pulled a face, similar to a grumpy child, though I doubted the sincerity of it, "you all crashed on me. I had to solve the mystery with Sherlock on my own."

We had been watching another episode after drinking way too much hot chocolate. I had felt as if I could have slipped into a food coma from the drink alone, never mind the biscuits Sonny made to go with them. They were much better than anything I could have baked.

I smiled, "was it the nice dude from the military lab place?"

"You… are unbelievable. Can you stop being clever, you're putting me to shame."

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He turned his phone off and turned to face me, rolling on his side, "arranging some things with the Schuylers, my old friends. They're in the business. Well, Eliza and Angie are… Peggy's fun though. They said they'd help me with the EP, get it recorded, composed etc."

I pressed my forehead against his chest, "I'm so tired."

"Well you didn't sleep last night, did you? Should have just left me to drink alone in the dark. Maybe then you wouldn't be so tired."

I was falling asleep again, "mhm, but then I wouldn't have kissed you."

"You have a good argument. I have to say, I thought I would kiss you first, you surprised me, Hamilton."

I yawned, "I have the tendency to do that. I surprised myself to be honest."

It was true. I had been caught in the moment and had let my emotions take control rather than letting my mind argue the possible consequences. I didn't regret it.

He brushed his hand up and down my arm, "you're gonna fall asleep, do you wanna go to bed?"

"No, you're warm."

I buried my head under his chin, surprising myself again. He laughed, though it was quiet, silent almost. He wrapped his other arm around me and hummed a low melody. I felt safe, even despite this being something that was usually out of my comfort zone. Even with Sonny I felt awkward. Maybe it was the exhaustion, but it just felt so right with him. He rubbed circles on my back and I soon gave in to sleep.

After what only felt like a few seconds, I was being awoken by his soothing voice, "Alex, wake up. The others are and I don't think they'd ever let it go if they saw us like this."

"What? Oh, right."

I sat up; he still lay next to me. My neck ached from the uncomfortable angle I had fallen asleep with it at. It was light outside again, the sun shone through the window and bounced off of the floor. He was right, Sonny and Laf were beginning to stir.

"Sorry," I rubbed the back of my neck, wincing when I hit a sore spot.

"Don't be. Listen, I'm going to the Schuyler's place today, wanna come? I need an expert opinion."

"Sure, I'll come. If you get me a coffee on the way."

He gasped in mock offence, "as if the thought hadn't already crossed my mind."

I rolled my eyes at him, cracking my wrist from where it, too, had been left at an uncomfortable angle.

"What time?" I asked.

"Um… 'bout an hour. They're like, crazy rich, so they have the sweetest recording equipment. It's all their dad, and a little bit of 'Liza, too, I s'pose. She's on Broadway, so…"

"Wait… Eliza? Eliza Schuyler as in... Broadway Eliza? I thought I recognised the name… you get about, don't you?" I was impressed.

"I know people, yeah. She's doing The Great Comet at the moment, plays Natasha I think."

"How do you have so many awesome friends? I've just got Sonny and you guys. Not that you guys aren't awesome… because you are."

"It's this little thing, minor thing, called, wait for it… socialising," he giggled, "you should try it sometime."

Laf groaned as he sat up, "can someone pass me my pills? My knee is killing me."

"I will," I offered.

I got up carefully, cautious not to accidentally hit John or kick Sonny who lay next to the sofa. They were left next to the sink in near enough the same place as last time, I grabbed the bottle and took it to him. He thanked me and swallowed a couple of the tablets. Watching him, I got the feeling of deja vu having done the same thing a few weeks prior. That wouldn't be a day that I would forget anytime soon, that was for sure.

"I have to go back to the hospital sometime this week for a check-up, I think it's Friday my appointment."

"Friday? But, that's your birthday! You can't go to the hospital on your birthday," John said loudly, waking Sonny completely up.

"What? Who's birthday? Happy birthday?" he blabbered.

"It's not my birthday yet, don't worry," Laf patted him on the shoulder and turned to the freckled man on the sofa, "but, John, I have to. I'll be fine. I promise."

John didn't respond. He stood up and went to his room, "I'm getting dressed. Alex, we're going soon."

"Okay," I replied, more than a little concerned.

I got myself dressed and found my shoes. I sat back on the sofa, twiddling my thumbs as Laf rubbed his temples, willing the painkillers to kick in quicker, I guessed.

"Where are you two off to then?" he asked.

"The… Schuyler's, I believe?"

"The Schuyler sisters! I haven't seen them in forever! Tell them I said hi. I would join you, but I have psychology class today."

"Same here," Sonny added, "only I have sociology."

John appeared in the threshold, "ready?"

I nodded and said my goodbyes, following behind him. He didn't say goodbye to the guys, left without saying a word. He called for a taxi and told the driver where to go. I sat next to him quietly, awkwardly. The silence was too loud.

He muttered something that I couldn't quite hear.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothing, just talking to myself. Sorry, I'm not trying to be grumpy, just… I feel guilty. It's my fault Laf has to go to the hospital in the first place, he's gonna have problems with his knee for the rest of his life because of me."

"You weren't the one who shot him, you couldn't have known."

"No, but I provoked the guy who did, if I hadn't done that it wouldn't have happened."

I sighed, "if you live your life like that you're gonna regret everything. And look at me, see what a mess that's made me? Don't make that mistake. It happened, you can't dwell on it. Laf's okay. It could've been worse."

"'It could've been worse,' I should get that on a t-shirt," he mumbled, a faint smile breaking through his frown.

I rested my head on his shoulder, "I'm still super tired."

"We're nearly there. You're gonna love them," he pressed a kiss on my forehead, "maybe a little too much. You're bisexual, right?"

"Well, I'm hardly straight. I would say so, yes. Probably, haven't really thought about it. "

"Well, put it this way, I'm gay and the Schuyler sisters turned my head."

We pulled up onto a huge driveway. I snapped my head towards John in shock. We couldn't have had the right house. It was way too big, expensive. Then again, that is what he said.

"I told you they were crazy rich, come on."

He paid the taxi driver and led my down the gravel path, ringing the doorbell when we reached it. The place was more like a mansion than a house. I felt underdressed in my shirt and jeans though John seemed unphased. The door opened to reveal a short, tanned girl wearing a yellow dress. Her dark brown hair was curled, similar to John's but the ringlets were not as tight. He was right, she was… undeniably beautiful. She smiled when she saw John.

"Jackie!" she squealed in delight.

He picked her up and span her in a circle as she laughed, "Peggy! It's been too long, squirt. How've ya been?"

"Super busy with school. Angie wanted me to design the album covers she's working on, but she's never satisfied. Typical," she blew a curl out of her eyes.

"I'm sure they're lovely, I expect to see them. God, I've missed you guys," he was practically glowing, "oh, this is my, uh, friend, Alex. 'Lex, this is Peggy, the youngest Schuyler. She is literally the human equivalent of sunshine and goodness and everything happy in the world."

"Jackie, friend? Really? That the best you got?" she giggled. I blushed.

"Never you mind. Now, where have the other ones gotten to?" he smiled.

She opened the door wider and beckoned for us to follow after her, "I'm your favourite though, right?"

"But of course, it's the dimples. You'll win every time. Just don't tell Betty and Angie."

"My lips are sealed."

She led us through the long corridors, past hundreds of strange paintings and shut doors until we reached one at the end. She knocked three times before opening it, "look who decided to turn up."

I followed behind John and took in the room. Inside lay recording equipment and musical instruments placed elegantly in the vast space. What caught my eye, however, was the two girls standing up from where they sat on a blue velvet sofa. The first, pale with long, straight, brown hair, ran towards John and tackled him in an embrace, almost knocking him over. A tight blue skater dress wrapped around her petite figure, a golden necklace dangled from her neck with the letter E embedded on the metal. I guessed that this was Eliza. She was undeniably attractive, John was right again.

"Jack! It's so good to see you!" sincerity gleamed in her big brown eyes, "and who is this?"

"This is a… friend of mine. Alex." he introduced me.

She pulled me into a hug, "Elizabeth Schuyler, it's a pleasure to meet you."

I was taken aback but hugged her anyway. Lastly was a tall girl, wearing a pink sweater and dark skinny jeans. Her frizzy hair was pulled into a messy bun, not dislike Laf's go-to style. She smiled, but made no move to approach John. She nodded her head, as if addressing a soldier, "Laurens."

John laughed and saluted, "Schuyler."

She rolled her eyes and pulled him into a hug, "good to see you, goofball."

"Always an honour, Angie."

She turned to me with a glare that could kill ten men, "Angelica Schuyler. Alex, I believe?"

"That's me," I said, faking confidence, beginning to feel more nervous.

"Angie, be nice," John grinned, "he's good."

She held my gaze for a moment longer, "if you say so, John. Right, shall we get the show on the road then?"

"Sounds like a plan."

The youngest Schuyler sat with me on the sofa - which felt like it was worth more than my life - as John and the others set to work mapping out what John had so far. He explained to them his idea for the EP and showed them what lyrics he had so far.

"I think it's a brilliant idea. We need to finish them all, not just the one, but I think this could be incredible, John. Shall we work on the finished one today and go from there?" Angelica suggested.

"Yeah, I can't believe I finished that one actually. I have a few ideas for the melody."

"Care to share with the group?" Eliza smiled, "you can use the piano. You remember how to play, right?"

John scoffed, "like I could forget. I had the best teacher in the world."

Peggy piped into the conversation, "who?"

"Your big sister, squirt. She used to come round to our place when our dads wanted to talk business. We had a piano, we got bored, and here we are."

Peggy and I swiveled round on the sofa so that we could watch John play. He cracked his fingers to which the youngest cringed, "ew, why would you do that?"

"Because, Pegs, I'd prefer it if I didn't get stiff hands when creating a masterpiece," he teased.

"Well, go on then, if you think you're so clever," Angelica sighed.

"I don't think I'm clever, I know I'm clever."

He played a few practice notes and cleared his throat. He pressed each key with his eyes closed, feeling for the music. He sang a part I recognised from the chorus. It was the tune he had sang a snippet of at the hospital. I felt each chord he played strike a nerve in my heart, in my soul, sending shivers down my spine at both the memories and the beauty of the notes. He caught my eye when checking the positioning of his hands and missed a note, quickly recovering it. He didn't let it throw him off, he carried on. He always carried on. I could hear the passion in his voice, it almost reduced me to tears. Funny how music could do that.

He finished and said, "or something like that. You feel?"

Eliza held his shoulder, "I loved it, I don't think the melody for the chorus needs much work at all, what about for the verses? Have you got that yet?"

"Nah, that's all I got. I don't exactly have one of these anymore, I did that from memory," he patted the piano.

"Scooch up," she tapped him on the arm and sat beside him on the stool, "how about… this."

She struck a few keys, John muttering the words of the first verse along to what she played. The eldest sister leaned back on the black piano, tapping a beat on the top of it, setting a pace for her sister. Peggy bobbed her head along to the music next to me but stopped abruptly.

"Crap, I have French homework!" she exclaimed.

"Watch your fucking language, Pegs, I thought I taught you better than that," John smirked, "I'm sure if you ask nicely, Alex will help you. He's fluent."

She looked at me with pleading eyes, "would you? I'm terrible at it and Eliza's busy helping Jackie."

I glanced from John to the girl in front of me, unsure of what to do. I hesitated, "uh, yeah. Sure, okay. I can help."

She stood up, "great! Follow me."

I did as instructed and followed after her, looking back to see John mouth 'thanks' as I left through the big oak door. She led me back down the corridor and up a grand staircase, past several more doors and halted at the second to last one. Smiling at me, she opened the door to reveal a white painted room; a single-bed sat in the far corner, the size was comical when comparing it to the vast space the room had to offer. She bent down under her desk and pulled out a yellow box, dropping it on top of her sunflower duvet.

"Thanks for this, I'm useless."

I swung my arms at my sides, "not a problem. What do you have to do?"

She picked up a planner and read from it, "I have to write a paragraph about food. But, I think I can just make it up. Then I have to speak it out loud, but my pronunciation is the worst."

I nodded, "right, okay. Have you got anything so far?"

She tipped the box out onto the bed and rooted through the piles of paper. I cringed at the disorganisation.

"Yeah, hang on," she found the correct piece of paper and straightened it, clearing her voice, "uh… pour le petit déjeuner, je mange de la brioche. Um... Pour le déjeuner, je mange de la viande ou du poison…"

I held up my hand to stop her, "okay, that's good so far, but can I see that for a second?"

"Sure."

I skimmed through the writing and held back a laugh, sighing in relief, "yeah, no, it's poisson, not poison. You're teacher would have had a heart attack wondering why you're eating poison."

She blushed, "oh, whoops. I thought it sounded a bit funny."

I sat next to the pile created from the contents of the box and she sat in a white swivel chair by a desk, turning to face me. We worked through the assignment and as we went on I began to feel more comfortable around her. She switched on the wax warmer on her bedside table, the scent of vanilla filling the room. At some point we switched places so that I could write down what she said and help her form a well structured piece.

"Okay, can we hear this part again, from 'la viande ou du _poisson,'_ " I suggested, emphasising the correction.

She took a deep breath and cleared her throat again, "yep, okay. Je mange de la viande ou du _poisson._ Au restaurant, d'habitude, je prends un steak. J'aime bien les escargots… mais.. um.. mais… line?"

I looked down at the paper and prompted her, "j'aime bien les escargots mais ils sont… you've got it… mais ils sont…"

She scrunched her brows together in thought before lighting up like a Christmas tree, "chers! Mais ils sont chers!"

I clapped, encouraging her, "yes! Okay, keep going."

"Oh, right, yeah! Uh, mais ils sont chers. Mes parents aiment les plats chinois, mais pas moi. J'adore les crȇpes. What… no don't tell me. Uh, le weekend, je mange des crȇpes au chocolat… that's all we got so far, right?"

"Très bien. Yeah, what else do you think you need?"

She was about to respond when there was a knock on the door making her jump. John's voice travelled through the wood of the door, "hey, it's only me, can I come in?"

Peggy looked at me with a mischievous look on her face, "I dunno, should we let him?"

I pretended to ponder for a moment, "hmm, I suppose we could let him in."

I could practically hear his pout, "awh, c'mon. Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"Go away, Anna," she responded, confusing me.

"Okay, bye!"

"What are you two talking about?" I asked.

They both gasped in unison and John burst through the door anyway without the invitation, "Frozen?"

I shook my head, completely and utterly perplexed. Peggy grabbed the nearest paperback book she could find and hit me on the head with it while John muttered his disbelief. I rubbed my head where she hit me and sighed.

"It's only one of the best Disney movies ever," John said as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

I groaned, "it's not the one with the snow and the snowman is it?"

"Obviously it's the one with the snow and the snowman. It's called Frozen and I just asked if she wanted to build a snowman. Okay, no excuses, I don't care if you have work to do. When we get home, it's hot chocolate and watching the goddamn movie."

I laughed, "whatever you say."

Peggy bubbled with excitement again, "Jackie, wanna see the album covers?"

He checked his watch, "sure, but after that me and 'Lex have gotta go. _Somebody_ has to be educated on the amazing world of Disney."

She attacked the pile on the bed, blowing a fly-away hair out of her eyes. John stood by her side, looking over her shoulder. Successful in her search, she pulled out a pink folder, contrasting with the colour scheme of the girl, "found them!"

He flicked through them, looking carefully at each one and grinned with his whole face, "these are amazing! You've gotten so much better since the last time I saw you. How could Angie not be happy with these? Tell you what, if these tracks I'm working on come out well and I get them published, how about you design the album cover, and, if you wanted to... I need back up vocals to help 'Liza?"

Her face matched John's at the praise, barely able to sit still. She was like an excited puppy that hadn't seen her owner in days, "yes! I'd love that! Thank you!"

"It would be my pleasure, Pegs. Now, come on, say goodbye to 'Lex. We've gotta go."

She sighed sadly, "fine. Bye, Alex. You have to come see us again soon, I get a lot of French homework."

I stood up from my place and smiled, "of course, I'd love to. Don't go eating poison on me."

John flashed me a look of confusion. He straightened his shirt and stood up, his arms opened wide to embrace the girl who looked sad to see us go. She prolonged the hug, squeezing him tight enough to make him squeal.

"Okay… yup… can't breathe, squirt… gotta let go. I'll be back soon, I promise. This weekend at the latest," he gasped in relief when she finally let go of him.

"Cross your heart?"

"And hope to die a terrible, terrible death," he drew two lines on his chest with his finger, "actually, maybe not a terrible, terrible death… just enough to ruin my weekend, I've got things to do. But I'll be back!"

She laughed as he tickled her sides, "okay, okay! I believe you, stop! Please!

"What's the magic word?" he teased, not ceasing in his tickle torture.

"I don't know! Please! Stop! You're my favourite Laurens kid! Help?... Alex! Save me!"

I put my hands up, "sorry kid, you're on your own."

I stepped back, watching the scene. I choked on my own breath suddenly. I remembered the first time I met John. It replayed in my mind as if on the silver screen, flashing before my eyes. We were all on the floor, engaging in an intense tickle fight only to be stopped by… him. Peter. The sound around me become a muffled version of the truth. I was half here, I could feel myself slipping. I gripped my arm and kept smiling, though I doubted it looked very convincing.

"Okay, that's enough, see you later, Peggy," John mumbled, it sounded like he mumbled, it sounded like we were underwater.

"Bye, Jack!"

He placed his hand on the small of my back. I was sure he could hear my heart beat, it was so loud. I couldn't hear anything else. He rubbed circles on my back as we walked down the staircase, it grounded me. I sniffed, playing it off as if I had a cold. We reached the bottom of the stairs without my knees giving out and John took my arm. I stared at him and he glared back, though not maliciously, in a way that told me he was trying to help. I nodded and we walked through to the entrance way. He shouted a last call goodbye to the sisters and the sound, less muffled, ricocheted off the walls around the house.

He took me back down the drive but he didn't call for a cab. Instead, he took me down a side path away from the main city. We ended up in a park similar to the one from a few nights ago. The colours were brighter here, the sun shone through the gaps in the trees making it seem as if the leaves were painted with gold; the shadows danced on the floor with the wind in the trees.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

He went off the path and guided me deeper into a set of woods, behind oak trunks and through leaf piles. We stopped behind the biggest trunk and he sat down next to a small river.

"You looked like you needed a walk," he said after a while, staring at the flow of the water.

I sat beside him, my hearing having returned from its earlier state back to normal and my pulse having returned to its usual rate. The lightheadedness remained, however.

"Yeah, I guess I did," I shrugged.

He tapped the side of his head, "see? I've got good senses, I know these things… nah, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought you if you didn't feel comfortable."

"No, no. It's not that. It's just…" I trailed off, my mind travelling back to that night again.

He rubbed my arm encouragingly, "go on. It's okay."

I closed my eyes, steadying the dizziness that crashed over me, "it's just that… I… I remembered the night we met for some reason and then, I remembered him and it just… it freaked me out. It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing. I get it, I do. It's okay. Come on, do you wanna go home? It's gonna be dark soon. We'll talk about it later, you don't have to right now."

I stared at my hands in my lap and nodded. He picked one up and pressed a soft kiss on it in one quick motion.

I stifled a laugh, "John Laurens, that was smooth as Hell."

"You _wish_ you had those skills."

I shook my head, "no, 'cause this way I get to enjoy them without doing any work."

"Unless I make you put in the work," he wiggled his eyebrows at me. I stared in both amusement and embarrassment, "I'm joking, 'Lex! Or am I? That's the real question."

I pulled at his collar and kissed him on his lips, partially to shut him up, partially because I'd been waiting to do so all day. All week. Since I first laid eyes on him, in fact. He brushed his hand against my cheek with his right hand, bringing me closer to the point that I thought I might fall on top of him. His tongue slipped inside my mouth and I welcomed it, gentle but demanding, and it was nothing like I'd ever experienced before. I suddenly realised why people described kissing as melting because every square inch of my body dissolved into his. My fingers gripped his hair, pulling him nearer. Closer.

We pulled away, gasping for air. My hand remained, as did his. Our foreheads pressed together, our eyes still clamped shut for a moment longer.

"It's nice to kiss you and not have the risk of being scared shitless," he whispered, his voice hoarse and tired.

I panted, "yeah. It is."

"Should we go?"

 **"** **Five more minutes wouldn't hurt," I shrugged, leaning in once again.**


	10. Chapter Ten

I woke up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming feeling of dread. Sonny was still snoring in the bed opposite mine. I was dripping with sweat; the pillow was damp underneath my head. My head pounded as I sat up. _Big mistake._ My abdomen ached and my body jolted forwards. _Shit. Shit. Shitshitshit._ I ripped off the duvet with great difficulty, as it had wrapped itself around my legs throughout the night. I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed the back of my hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying out, my head spinning from getting up too quickly. I felt a wave of panic crash over me as my body shook and the nausea clawed at my throat. I tried to force down the bile threatening to surface, but it was too late. I made a dash for the bathroom, my head over the toilet. I gripped the seat of the toilet with shaking hands as I threw up out of my coughing, choking mouth. My stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out. I lurched forward and sunk to my knees. The pungent stench invaded my nostrils and I heaved even though there was nothing left to go.

My throat was sore from the stomach acid and the taste lingered in my mouth, making me want to be sick again. My body shook more violently, but not from the sickness. I sobbed as my breathing became more inconsistent and taking in air became a far more difficult task. The pounding in my head was worse and I felt extremely light-headed, I thought I was going to pass out. I leaned against the wall, taking off my shirt and wiping my face with it. The wall was cool against my back, which felt like a radiator. I shut my eyes tight, hoping I could catch my breath. Hoping the panic would subside. Hoping the nausea would fuck off.

It all came flooding back as if I were still in the moment.

 _Mamá had her head over a bucket, her muscles contracting as she used the last of the strength she had to keep her body upright instead of falling back on the bed. She retched into the tub and looked up, some of it still trailing down her lips, viscous and opaque, specks of red._

 _She turned her head towards me, the caustic fluid coating her mouth, and said, "por favor, mijo, agua, por favor."_

 _I complied and left her hospital room to get what she had asked for. Upon returning, I was met with the horrified look on my brother's face as doctors rushed in and out of her room. I dropped the cup and time slowed down, as if watching in slow-motion. The water spilled onto the floor in a puddle. I tried to get past the doctors. She had to be okay. She had to be..._

I snapped out of it, led on the cold bathroom floor, sweating and silently sobbing. I couldn't make any noise. I felt my stomach contract again and I made a move for the toilet bowl, repeating what had just happened.

Daylight shone through the door that I had left open from the hallway, I kicked it shut. _How long was I out for?_ I stood up and gripped the porcelain sink for support when my legs wanted to give way. I ran the tap and splashed my face with the water, brushing my hair back from my face with my hands. I felt dizzy and sick. I sat back down in between the shower and the toilet, my head in my hands. It wasn't long before I began to hear movement from in the apartment, people getting ready for classes. I closed my eyes, tried to take my mind off of everything, tried to stay in reality. I bent over the bowl and spat up what I could, holding my hair back this time. I flushed it down and waited until I heard people beginning to leave before I left the bathroom. It was still early. I poured myself a glass of water and sipped at it, wrapping myself in blankets and grabbing a book. Anything to distract the memories.

For the next few hours I was in and out of the bathroom, every time faced with the painful memories replaying in my mind. I wanted to sleep, needed it. I shut the curtains and heated a warm-up teddy John had given me a few days after the funeral. " _It helps, trust me,"_ he had said. I wrapped myself up on the sofa and scrunched my eyes shut, willing sleep to release me from the torment of being awake. It felt like hours before I fell asleep. But just as soon as I had, I was awake again.

I heard the key turning in the door before I opened my eyes. At first I thought I was still dreaming until I felt the need to return to the bathroom.

"'Lex? Are you okay?" John asked, dumping his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes.

I couldn't speak. I shook my head but instantly regretted it when I felt the bile climbing up my throat, burning it. I bit hard on my knuckle and gagged, jumping up and falling to my knees in the cold bathroom. He was quick behind me, holding my hair back for me as I threw up for what felt like the millionth time today. I started to cry again. I must have looked so pathetic to him. _Crying like a child because of a little stomach bug._ He brought the back of his hand to my forehead and frowned.

"You're burning up, babe," he muttered, more to himself than to me.

I didn't respond. He wiped my face with a damp washcloth. I felt so stupid. Still, my body shook as it had done in the early hours of the morning. He rubbed circles on my back and passed me a fresh glass of water.

"It's okay, tell me what's wrong, Alex," he whispered to me as if I would break if he was any louder.

"I…"

" _What's wrong, Alex?" Sonny asked._

 _I was curled up into a ball on the bedroom floor of Abuela's house. The rain pounding on the window mixed with the pounding of my own heartbeat made it impossible to concentrate. My hands gripped my hair and I held a bucket between my legs._

 _He called for Abuela when I didn't respond, the panic in his voice increasing my own. I heard them both running up the stairs, Sonny a lot quicker. She knelt down beside me and lifted up my chin._

" _How much have you had, pequeño?" She asked, rubbing my back._

 _I didn't answer, I curled tighter into myself. Tears and sweat merging into one._

" _Get him some water, Sonny. Now, please."_

 _He hesitated for a moment, until Abuela glared at him and he took the hint. Abuela picked up the empty bottle of scotch and the painkillers which had spilled from the bottle. She held the crucifix around her neck in her hand tightly when she realised that I hadn't taken the pills._

" _Were you going to?" she asked me._

 _I shook my head. It was true, I wasn't going to. I thought I was, but I couldn't do it. She rubbed my back again._

" _Come back, 'Lex," she said, but it wasn't her voice. Why did I know that voice?_

"Alex?" John whispered, "you're okay, you're with me. You're in the bathroom. Come back to me."

I gasped and choked on the little air in my lungs. I gripped his shirt and hugged him. He was here, I wasn't back there. I was back in the present. He enveloped his arms around me and whispered reassurance in my ear. I could still taste the memories, like I had just drank that bottle of scotch, like I was still being sick. The latter part was somewhat true. I turned back and spat into the toilet, my hands trembling worse than before. He gripped them and turned on the shower. I squeezed tightly. Probably too tightly, but he didn't complain. He helped me out of the rest of my clothes and took off his shirt and pants. He got in first, knowing my anxieties. I felt so weak. I couldn't argue about it. I got in after him and I got an overwhelming sense of deja vu. Last time we showered together was after the funeral of my cousin… who killed himself… and then there was me… almost, so close to being in the same position as him. The water. The rain. The tears. The sick. The... death.

He hugged me again, "think of your safe place, Alex."

"Wh- what?"

"Where do you feel safe? Anything. Place, person, feeling. Imagine it, imagine the details and how you feel at you safe place."

I thought about when we had movie nights. The popcorn and the hot chocolate and the fun. The feeling of happiness when we all cuddled up on the sofa. Me, my friends, and John. He made me feel safe.

 _Just stop crying like a baby. No one's gonna want you if you break at the drop of a pin. Don't be so pathetic. No wonder dad left._

I held my breath at my last thought. I hadn't thought properly about my dad in years. Was… _I_ the reason he left? I slipped away again…

 _Mamá was crying at the kitchen table with James in her arms. I walked over to them and she wrapped another arm around me, though James glared._

" _¿Qué pasa?" I asked._

 _He shoved past me and went to our shared room. I turned to my mother in confusion and worry. She sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve._

" _Papá ha ido a... trabajar."_

 _I furrowed my brows, "¿volverá pronto?"_

 _She looked away from me, "no, mijo… no."_

 _I was too young, I didn't understand. He wasn't coming back. I ran to our room and found my brother packing his bag angrily._

" _¡No!" I yelled at him._

" _Esto es tu culpa."_

 _My fault... Why was it my fault? What did I do? Was I not good enough? I started to cry. He scoffed at me and muttered how pathetic I was being. I cried into my pillow and heard my mother shouting after my brother who ran out of the house. He came back eventually, but the hours in between were torture._

"Alex, come on, you can get out now," John's voice brought me back again.

He had washed my hair and wrapped me in a towel without me having any knowledge of it. He towel dried my hair and let me dress myself before he sat me in the living room on the sofa. He sat in front of me on the floor.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice calm, collected and soothing.

"I… was sick," I started, grimacing at how stupid that statement was. Obviously.

"I gathered that much. There's something else… you can tell me, 'Lex. You know that."

"I know… I just, I don't know."

"Who isn't coming back?" he asked.

I bit the inside of my cheek, "it doesn't matter, leave it."

His eyes searched my face, lingering at my eyes. I swear he could see right through me. He stood up and sat next to me.

He set up his laptop and looked up at me, "what d'you wanna watch?"

"What? Aren't you going out tonight?"

He stared at me for a moment, "you honestly think I would leave you like this? I care about you, Alex. And no stupid night out is gonna change that. I don't even like going out anyway. C'mon, what do you wanna watch."

I blinked at him, "uh… you pick."

"Sherlock?" he smiled.

I nodded and leaned on his chest. He fiddled with my hair, watching the screen but I noticed him throwing worried glances at me. I tried to ignore it, I was fine.

 _He knows._

He doesn't know. I contradicted my own thoughts. I thought it was so stupid, arguing with myself. I was fine. If I kept saying it enough, maybe I would be. It happened, past tense. Get over it.

The sky started to turn dark. Sonny and Laf came home together, laughing and joking. They stopped in their tracks when they saw me, tear stains on my cheeks.

"Whoa, what's up?" Sonny asked.

"I'm… uh, _sick,"_ I emphasised on the last word.

He looked at me with confusion, then it hit him and he nodded with an 'ohhh'. He remembered.

"How… sick? Regular sick… or…" He coughed, I knew what he was asking.

"Regular sick, I'm good," I said, barely above a whisper.

He nodded in understanding and turned to Laf, "pre-birthday drinks?"

Laf shrugged, "I have a shift tonight, you can come to the bar if you want, we can have a few."

Sonny cast me another look and his gaze fell to John, who was still watching the screen, looking as though he was failing at blocking out everyone else, "sounds like a plan. I take it you guys aren't coming?"

I tried to smile and nodded.

"Are you sure you alright, mon ami?" Laf asked.

"I'm fine."

They got changed after a few minutes and said their goodbyes. I turned back to the screen after I watched them shut the door. I felt sick again. I needed to be sick. I fought against it and my whole body shook, working against me. John patted my thigh and paused Netflix.

"Don't fight it, 'Lex. I know it sucks but it'll be worse if you don't get it out."

I nodded silently and stood up, he moved to help me but I waved him off, "I'm fine, I can go on my own."

"... okay. But tell me if you need me. Promise me?"

"Promise."

I clenched my fist and shut the bathroom door behind me. I knelt on the floor and gave in, my body winning. It was horrible, I hated it. I leaned against the toilet when I thought I had finished for a few minutes, I was so tired. When a few moments - what felt like a couple hours - passed, John knocked on the door. I was half-asleep when the noise sharpened my senses.

"You okay?" he asked through the door.

"Yeah, sorry. I fell asleep."

I unlocked the door and found him leaning on the wall beside the entrance. I hugged him. So tired.

"Come to bed," he said.

"... I hate this."

"I know… come with me, sleep it off. It'll be over soon."

He poured me a fresh glass of water and grabbed a bucket from the cupboard. _Why is it always buckets?_ He came with me to my room and lay on my bed as close to the wall as humanly possible. I squeezed next to him and nuzzled my head into his neck. The bed was probably way too small for the both of us, but I needed to sleep. I needed to be near him. He wrapped his arm around me and played with my hair. I leaned into it, it calmed me. I fell asleep in his arms to the sound of his steady breathing. It was all in the past. I was in the present now. No more bad stuff. I was okay.


	11. Chapter Eleven

My body jolted when I woke up. I didn't kick the wall like I usually did when I woke up from a bad dream. John was there, awake. He soothed me and my heart rate came back down to a normal beat. The sun shone through a gap in the curtains and lit up his face. Sonny's bed was empty.

"You okay? D'you need to be sick again?" he asked in a low, tired voice.

I shook my head, "no… just bad dreams. Sorry."

"Don't be silly, it's not your fault," he rubbed my arm, warming it up. I'd gotten cold during the night.

"Where's Sonny?" I asked.

"With Laf. They got back pretty late, I think he either took my bed or him and Laf are passed out on the sofa," he smiled, "it's his birthday today."

"How is it Friday already?"

"Time is a strange thing, my friend."

His phone buzzed a couple of times next to my head, which was resting on his chest, indicating that someone was calling him. He picked it up and blew out a shaky breath, "hi- hello?... yes, okay. I can come tomorrow… well, I have- I have arrangements for today… at the Schuyler's… no, no, it's not like that… it's Lafayette's birthday, dad… I know… I will. Okay… see you tomorrow, sir."

I heard the call end before he had moved the phone from his ear. He cuddled me a little tighter than before.

"Everything okay?"

His voice was blank, distant, "yeah, yeah. I'm going to my dad's place tomorrow. But I have today to hang at the Schuyler's and do some stuff. Wanna come with for today? Not… not tomorrow."

"I have class today, sorry. Tell them I said hi?"

He whistled, "Peggy's gonna be sad that you won't be there."

"She was really sweet. They all were, well, Angelica scares me a bit."

He laughed, "Angie scares everyone. It's kind of her thing. She was only like that because she cares about me, she doesn't want me to get hurt. Not that you could do that, of course."

He kissed my forehead and turned onto his side, his gaze trailing down to my lips.

"Don't, I might still give you my disease."

He didn't stop, "if that were the case then I'd already have it. I don't care, I want to be with you."

"You're gross and sweet and I don't know how I should feel about that."

He smirked, "decide later and kiss me now while you think about it."

I pecked him quickly on the lips, not wanting to make him sick like I was. He rolled his eyes and kissed me hard. I couldn't help but laugh. He hovered above me and caressed my cheek with his thumb, bending down so that his nose was centimetres away from mine.

"Don't blame me when you're ill," I murmured against his freckled lips.

"So worth it."

He interlocked our lips again. I could taste the mint on his lips. He must have gotten up and brushed his teeth at some point. He moved his hand from my face, to my neck, to my waist, and to my back, gently elevating my body from the bed. I leaned on my elbow to hold myself up and gave in to him. I let his tongue explore each part of my mouth. I let his hands brush against me. I gasped when he found a sensitive spot on my neck, lightly nipping at the skin, not too hard, but enough to leave marks. He reconnected our lips briefly and pulled away, his eyes still shut.

"Come on. We should get up, we've got things to do."

I nodded and got up, grateful that the nausea from yesterday had finally passed. I pulled on a clean t-shirt and grabbed a pair of jeans. He brushed his hand against my bare arm on his way out and smiled at me, closing the door. I silently chuckled to myself. He would be the death of me with those dimples and freckles and everything good in the world. I found the notebooks I needed for class and shoved them into my bag. I heard the singing of 'Happy Birthday' through the walls from the living room shortly followed by the groans of Laf.

"Shh, sleepy times," Laf said.

"But it's your birthday! Happy birthday!" he continued. I could hear the desire to cause mischief in his voice.

"John! I hate you…"

"You love me," he countered.

"Uh huh. I do. Now go away, but bring me coffee, please?"

"Anything for the birthday boy!"

"Shh!"

I heard the clattering of mugs being taken from the cupboard and clanging together on the counter. I braided my hair back and took my bag to the other room. Sonny was in silence on his phone, clearly tired; Laf had his face in a cushion, trying to block out the real world i.e. John's shouting; John was leaning on the counter, waiting for the coffee. The aroma of the drink filled the room and I felt the craving for it. I loved that shit. He passed me a cup when they were ready and I thanked him. He sipped from his, wincing at the temperature but still drinking nonetheless, and looked through some loose sheets on a side cabinet.

He looked up after pulling a face, meaning he had remembered something, "oh, yeah. Laf? Dad said happy birthday."

The frenchman rolled over to face him, "when did you speak to your dad?"

"This morning… and a couple days ago. Did I not tell you?"

Laf shook his head, "non."

"I told you they've moved here again, though… didn't I?"

"What? No. How come?" he was sat upright now.

John rolled his eyes and turned back to the papers, "business. Obviously. What else? I have to go see him tomorrow."

Laf fiddled with his hoodie strings, I'd never seen him do that before, "and… why- why's that? Are you okay with that?"

John shrugged, his back towards us so that we couldn't see his face, "dunno. Probably about school or something. Probably nothing… but… I get to see everyone else, too, so it'll be fine."

Laf held his forehead as he stood from the sofa and approached John, who still faced away from us, the shuffling of the papers had ceased. He patted him on the shoulders and muttered something inaudible into his ear. John nodded after hearing what Laf had whispered and turned back around, his expression blank.

"Right, okay. I'm going. See you later," he announced and tucked the papers into his pockets.

"Bye," I said.

He attempted to smile at me reassuringly, but he was unsuccessful; he merely looked as though he had a toothache and was trying to hide the pain. I watched him leave and drank the rest of my coffee, checking my watch.

"Well, I gotta go, too," I sighed, "happy birthday, Laf. Good luck at the hospital."

"Thank you, mon ami. I'll see you a bit later on, yes?"

I nodded, "that's the plan. Later, Sonny."

"Later," he mumbled mid-yawn.

I left with my bag around my shoulder and walked to my class. There weren't too many people around at this time. About half-way, my phone illuminated with John's name, I answered.

"Hey, you okay?" I said.

"Yeah, yeah. Hi, uh, can you remember where the Schuyler's house is?"

"... probably. Why?"

"So, I was thinking of giving Laf a tiny party here, we can't just do nothing. But, I need you to bring Sonny and Laf 'cause they won't know where to go. Around, eight-ish?"

"Sure, we can do that.. So you're staying there till then?" I carried on walking.

"If that's alright. We're gonna try and work on a demo of one of the songs, y'know, for some friends of Angie's. But Eliza has to do a show tonight, so we're using what time we've got."

"Sweet, that's so good! Well done. But, uh, yeah. I think I can probably get everyone there," I was outside of the building now, "is it a surprise?"

"Well, Laf will probably know, he's a superhuman, he just knows everything. So, just say you're all going to the Schuyler's, don't tell him directly. But, he'll probably know."

"M'kay. Well, listen, I gotta go. See you later."

"Okay, bye. See you soon."

I waited for him to hang up and went to class. I was less focused than usual. My mind was racing, I couldn't forget about it, I had to get people there. I hoped it wasn't a big party. But, it was a big house, they knew people. The lesson was over in no time and I had barely listened to what the teacher had said. I packed up my stuff and left. The street was a lot busier than this morning and I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the ground.

Sonny was still on the sofa when I came in, though Laf was nowhere to be seen. He must have gone to the hospital.

"Hey, Laf gone?"

"Yeah, 'bout an hour ago," he replied.

He sighed and drank a glass of water. He stood up and pressed his head on my shoulder wordlessly.

"You doing alright there, bud?" I asked, in a state of shock and concern.

He shook his head, "I feel like shit, my head hurts, I feel sick. Really, I think it's best you just put me down, put me out of my misery."

I chuckled, "I'm not 'putting you down', look, take something and take a nap. You'll be okay… you've not caught what I had have you?"

"No, I just wish I would learn my lesson and not drink when it's a tiny bit illegal… and I always feel like shit afterwards."

His forehead was burning through my shirt, "you are kinda warm."

"It's 'cause I'm wearing a million layers. New York's cold."

"It sure is."

His head rest on my lap and we watched a couple of old movies until he fell asleep. It was like no time had passed since we were back on the island, friends, more than that. Things were different now… I had John. Who did Sonny have? The end credits rolled and I made no move to turn it off, too lost in my thoughts to notice that the movie had ended in the first place. The door opened and Laf entered limping. He smiled at me and poured himself some juice.

"Hey, how was it?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Nothing big. They said I'm as good as I can be and they've prescribed me more painkillers."

"Well, that's not too bad."

"Nope."

"Oh," I remembered the plans for the night, "we're going to the Schuyler's at around eight-ish if that's cool with you."

"That is wonderful! I haven't seen them in so long!" his face lit up at the news, full of excitement.

Sonny rolled over on my lap, his head was now facing my stomach. I held my breath, not wanting to disturb him.

"Is he okay?" Laf asked.

"I don't know. He said he felt a bit off, but he's always like that after drinking."

"I knew it wasn't a great idea. I hope he feels better."

"Me, too. He's a nightmare when he's like this."

"How is it that you know each other again?"

I opened my mouth to answer but no sound escaped. I tried again, "we were… um… we were foster kids together. We were like best friends, but…"

I didn't dare finish my sentence. Laf put his hand up, signaling that I didn't have to say anything more. I was grateful. He disappeared to shower and get changed as the sky turned darker. Sonny stirred again, finally waking up.

"Ow, ow. Ouch."

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I got cramp in my neck," he groaned, scrunching his face up and sitting upright.

"You poor thing. Are you gonna come tonight? We're going out."

He paused in thought, "yeah. No alcohol."

"No alcohol. You don't have to drink."

He seemed satisfied with my statement and got up to get changed along with Laf. I only threw on my green hoodie, not wanting to wear something too formal to a casual birthday celebration. I made the decision for my clothing choice after seeing the other two, both of which had seemed to have picked up on the casual theme. I was going to fit in, it was fine. As time drew closer to eight, we prepared to leave, calling for a cab.

I told Laf the address before hand which he repeated to the driver. It wasn't a very long drive. Laf rang the doorbell and waited for the door to open. A girl I recognised as Eliza answered wearing a pale blue t-shirt and skinny jeans. She smiled seeing us all and gave us all a hug, welcoming us. She clung tighter to the Frenchman who spun her around as John had previously done upon greeting Peggy. It was like watching two long lost friends seeing each other for the first time in years… I imagined this was the case. Sonny stood awkwardly by my side, swinging his arms back and forth.

She led us through the corridors and opened the door to a big room. Inside lay a grand fireplace beneath a giant mirror. Several sofas scattered the room, another piano in the corner. I felt my jaw drop. It was decorated with balloons and banners, one forming the message:

Happy birthday, Marquis de Lafayette! America's Favourite Fighting Frenchman!

The man for whom the message was addressed to clamped his hand around his mouth, hiding the adorable smile which appeared every so often, bringing light into the world. John hugged his friend tightly and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and thanked him.

John's freckles arms were exposed where his maroon button-down shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. I loved his freckles. They created their own tone, adding natural shade to his beautifully tanned skin. The different concentration of dots in different areas created the most amazing patterns. He was as much a piece of art as the work he created.

He caught my eye and I couldn't help but smile, I was once again reminded of our first encounter.

"Well, it's so great to see you after so long, Laf. But, I'm afraid I have to go. I've got a show tonight and I should have been there," he checked her watch and frowned, "two hours ago for dress makeup and warm up. I hope they forgive me. Gotta run, bye guys!"

We waved after her. I felt the impact of somebody wrapping their arms around me and turned to see that a girl in a red jumper had attached herself to me. I smiled after realising who it was, the immediate panic subsiding.

"Hey, Peggy," I laughed.

"You came back!" She giggled.

"Of course," I nodded, "how was your French assignment?"

"I got an A, and I didn't eat poison, so it was all good."

"That's always a plus."

John tapped her on the shoulder, "hey, squirt, you might wanna let go, I can see the blood circulation being cut off from here."

She released me from her grasp and rubbed her arm, "sorry, just happy to see you."

She moved on to tackle Laf to the ground who winced when he fell onto his leg but played it off as if he was just messing with her. John looked around the room and frowned, "where's Angie gone? We have to introduce her to Sonny."

"Who's Sonny?" Peggy asked, dusting herself off and helping Laf up.

"That- that would be me, miss," he stuttered at first.

Peggy flushed a pinkish colour and made eye contact with him, "oh, hi. I'm… I'm Peggy."

"Sonny," he nodded his head, a move I had seen him try to pull off a million times before. Oh boy.

"I know," she replied.

"... right, I knew that."

John's eyes flicked back and forth between the two, "... okay… this is awkward. 'Lex, come with me. Laf, good luck."

He dragged me out of the room by the hand and back to the room where we had gone last time with all the recording equipment. He pulled a memory stick from his pocket and plugged it into his laptop which sat on top of the piano amongst piles of sheets.

"Will you listen to this little bit we have so far?" He asked me with pleading eyes. I couldn't say no.

"Of course, yes… God, yes."

He smiled nervously and pressed play, stepping back from the laptop as if it would blow at any given moment. He was out of my range of vision and I watched true sound waves on the screen. It was a piano playing a chilling melody to begin with, then harmonies that I recognised as the voices of Eliza and Peggy came in. They were in perfect sync with each other, it was beautiful. A few more chords later and his voice sag through the speakers. I smiled, his voice was powerful, strong, soft, melodic, beautiful… everything good. I'd never heard anything like it.

I listened to the lyrics and realised that this part of the recording was from the chorus of one of his songs. I loved it. Everything about it. Every word he sang, every note he flawlessly hit sent shivers down my spine. He was telling an important story in an incredible way, a way which almost reduced me to tears despite having only heard a fragment of the song. The chorus ended and the recording stopped. He pulled the stick out of the USB port and turned to me, not making eye contact.

"It's obviously not finished yet and needs some work, but overlooking all that… what did you think?"

"I think… that it is…" I sighed, my speech having failed me.

I closed the distance between us, feeling as though it was the easiest and best way to explain how the music had made me feel. It had given me feelings I couldn't explain in words… which was a rare occasion. He pressed into the kiss, pushing me against the piano, I heard the unpleasant noise of the keys being pressed down. His grin could be felt on my lips. His hands, cool and soft, travelled up my hoodie and onto my back, running across the skin.

The door opened and we pulled away from each other panting.

Angelica has entered carrying files and a guitar, "can you like, maybe not have sex on my piano? I don't wanna have to fix it any time soon."

"Angie!" John laughed, "I was just showing Alex the part of the demo we got!"

"Mhm hmm, that's why you were all each other?"

"Music evokes the most inexplicable emotions…"

"Whatever, Laurens. Where's my favourite?"

John faked offence, "first of all, you take that back, I'm the favourite… second of all, he's in the living room, weird parlour… place."

"Which one?"

John threw his arms in the air, "the fact that I have to clarify…"

Angelica laughed, "I'm only messing… we only have two."

"Only?" John chuckled, "most people don't have 'parlours' anymore, Ange."

She smirked, "it's an old house."

"Whatever, go see your favourite."

"Later," she said and left the room, dumping her stuff on the chair next to the door.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Laf and John could be heard mumbling to each other through the thin bedroom walls. Sonny was lying awake on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm getting up," he said, closing his eyes.

"You said that two minutes ago, bud. And two minutes before that."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatevs. I mean it this time."

I stared at him over the top of my phone screen, "sure."

"Hypocrite," he mumbled, though loud enough for me to hear.

"Asshole," I smirked.

The talking next door grew louder and there was a bang on the wall followed by an angered scream and Laf's calming words. I heard John apologising over and over again through the wall and felt the urge to get up and comfort him, but I didn't want to get involved. The front door opened and he shouted a strained goodbye to which both Sonny and I replied, "see you later."

I sat up properly and stared at the door, willing myself to get up.

Sonny let out a long breath, "my hair's too long."

"What? No it's not. I like it longer."

"Nah, you just have a thing for long hair, my dude."

I shrugged, "still. It looks better how it is."

He paused as if nervous, "I have a date tonight."

I paused, too, "that's… that's good. Really good. Who's the lucky… guy? Or girl, I don't discriminate." I held my hands up in mock defence.

"This guy I met at the bar. He's like, really…"

"Hot?"

"Uh huh. He makes me feel things. Y'know? Like when we," he cut himself off and cleared his throat, "sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. It's okay. We've both moved on, this is good. What's he like?"

"Um, remember Pablo?"

"Pablo?" I furrowed my brows, "oh! Café Pablo? The one that used to draw pictures on the coffee cups for his favourites? Hot, charming and tall?"

"That's the one. I get a Pablo vibe from this guy. But he's more Pablo than Pablo."

I laughed and rolled onto my side, "how can you be more Pablo than Pablo?"

He rolled his eyes, "I don't know, man. He just is," he stared into space, his lips curling slightly, "okay, I'm up."

He sauntered out of the room, leaving me to my thoughts. I was happy for him. Definitely happy for him. Things were working out for both of us. What more could I ask for? I span my phone in between my fingers as I fell back down on the bed. I hoped this _Pablo guy_ was good to him. He had better be good to him or so help me…

A few hours later, when the sky was beginning to grow dark - had I really been in my room studying that long? - I closed my laptop and rubbed my face.

"Alexander?" Laf's voice travelled through the gap between the door and its frame.

"Bonsoir, everything okay?"

"Ouais, I'm just worried about him; that's all."

"John? What happened this morning?"

"He thinks he is fine, mais en fait, ce n'est pas vrai du tout. I don't know how much you know, but his dad is not a good man."

I sat up again, looking down at my fidgeting hands. I had heard some stories about his dad, but not a lot. From what I heard, however, Laf's statement was fairly accurate. The stories made my blood boil and I didn't know the half of it.

"Well, he's trying to put up his wall and pretend he is okay, he always does this. It stresses me out," he made Sonny's bed for him as he ranted, "and then the wall took a beating because he is keeping it all in and it's not healthy. What am I supposed to do? He won't talk, he won't listen, he just refuses. Fils de pute!"

"I'm sure he has his reasons. I'll try to talk to him."

He scoffed, "ha! Good luck with that."

I stood up and stretched. Laf continued to clean the room, his hair falling into his face as he bent down to pick up dirty laundry.

"Laf, why are you cleaning my room? You don't… isn't that my job?"

"I'm stress cleaning, mine is spotless and, no offence, but yours is a bomb site. I'm doing laundry," he patted me on the shoulder, "it is probably better if you leave me to it."

I blinked, "wait… so I'm getting kicked out of my room now?"

"Ouais, but it is also being cleaned for you. De rein."

"Thank you?"

I grabbed my phone and laptop before I was pushed out of the room and sat on the floor. Sonny was spread out on the sofa, his head in his hands. I nudged him lightly and he groaned, mumbling something incoherent.

"Sonny," I singsonged, "what's wrong?"

"I can't go on this date."

"Why not?" I stood up and prepared us coffees, still listening.

"I don't know, I'm nervous, man."

I brought him his cup and sat beside him. The coffee wasn't nearly as good as his, but it would do. He smiled at me and sipped at it, pulling a face at the shitty quality.

"That's not like you, why are you nervous?"

"I don't know, it's just…"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, knowing he knew perfectly well why he was nervous, "go on?"

"I guess I haven't been with anyone since… us."

Oh.

My face softened and I rubbed circles on his knee with my thumb. He leaned against me and sighed.

"What time is the date?" I asked.

"He said we'd meet at seven. I don't actually know what's goin' down. It's meant to be a surprise. Dude, I'm gon' get murdered if I go, aren't I?"

I laughed, "I wouldn't go that far. But do text me, just in case. Gotta know you're safe. But you should definitely go, have some fun."

"I really don't like my hair," he pulled at a curled strand.

I watched him, getting nervous like I had never seen him before. I ran his hair through my fingers, measuring it, "do you want me to cut it for you?"

He nodded, "if you don't mind. Just like old times."

"Just like old times."

I took one of the chairs from our room - though Laf wasn't happy I had interrupted him - and placed it in the living room. I made him sit in it and went to find a pair of scissors, a comb and something I could spray water with. He slouched in the chair in his 'standard Sonny' way, I grinned.

"Sit up straight, unless you want a wonky haircut."

He did as instructed and fidgeted with a loose thread on the bottom of his shirt. I pulled his head up so that he was looking straight forward. My phone began to ring half way through in my pocket. I looked at the caller ID.

 _John wants to FaceTime._

I gave Sonny my phone and told him to hold it for me. John's beaming face lit up the screen.

"Hey, hey, hey," he smiled, "wait, what are you doing?"

I sprayed Sonny's hair with water and combed it, snipping the split ends off.

"Making Sonny look like Uncle Fester," I grinned.

John laughed and Sonny furrowed his eyebrows, swivelling around in the chair, "who?"

"Pass me your phone and I'll show you," I replied.

I typed in the name and showed him the images.

"What the fuck? No, that's not what I meant when I said I didn't want my longer hair. You better not have made me bald! I have an old man face, don't make my hair complete the look!" he half shouted.

I stepped back, "I'm joking, I'm joking. And you don't have an old man face. John, tell him he doesn't have an old man face."

John complied, "you don't have an old man face."

"Cross your heart?"

"And hope to die."

I turned back to the screen and bit my lip. John was at his dad's. He seemed okay, better than okay. I carried on cutting Sonny's hair, "everything okay with you over there?"

John fell back onto a black sofa and was immediately greeted by a black and white border collie. It licked his face and he giggled, "me? Yeah, yeah. Just hanging with the dog and the siblings for a bit. Talked to my dad. That was rough but it's fine, don't have to see him now till next week. Now I get to enjoy time with the decent side of my family."

The dog, despite its size, jumped onto his chest, making him grunt in surprise as it winded him. Sonny was laughing, as was John. I was smiling, pulling another wet strand of hair through my fingers and trimming it.

"Who's the dog?" I asked.

"This handsome boy is Rocky. He is the biggest sweetheart ever. Isn't that right, Rocky?"

The dog licked his hand in response.

Sonny grinned at this screen, "he's so cute! Reminds me of that dog Abuela used to have. Well, the one she used to feed, she didn't actually own it."

"What dog?" I asked.

"Oh, you weren't with us then. I'll see if I've got any photos later. He was kinda like you, young, scrappy and hungry."

I pulled his hair a little tighter, not enough to hurt him. Just to let him know I was offended, "rude."

I left to get a dustpan and brush to clean up the hair. When I returned, John and Sonny were engaged in a serious and passionate conversation about how amazing dogs were. I strained myself from rolling my eyes, but I couldn't help but smile at them both.

I cleaned up the floor and Sonny's shoulders and ruffled his hair. He flashed his teeth and smiled a thank you. I took my phone back and knocked on my bedroom door.

"Why are you knocking on your own bedroom door?" John's voice asked through the phone speaker.

Before I could answer, Laf opened the door.

"Yes? Oh… hello, mon ami. Is that? No! Rocky! Oh hello, Rocky! Look how big you are!" He praised like a grandmother talking to her grandchild.

"Alex?" Sonny called from the living room.

I gave Lafayette my phone so he could talk to John and walked over to Sonny. He was stood, staring at the ground. I hugged him out of habit, knowing he needed it. He tensed at first and then relaxed into it.

"What's really wrong, Sonny? You can tell me," I said softly, as if talking to a terrified deer.

He hesitated and looked everywhere except me, then he whispered, barely audible, "I really need this date to work out."

"It'll never work out if you don't go. Just go, and if you wanna bail, text me and I'll save you. I promise. But you should at least try. I mean look at you, fresh trim, adorable smile. Who could ask for more?" I smiled, "you can do it."

He looked at me sheepishly, "hypocrite."

"And you're an asshole. We've already established this. Right, go get dressed. I'm pretty sure Laf's done now."

I grabbed my phone back from Laf - who ran back to his room while Sonny got changed - and sat on the sofa to talk to John.

"So, how are you?" I asked, knowing Laf would kill me if I didn't. Also because I cared. But Laf definitely would have killed me.

"I'm good. Really good. It's good to see everyone. Really."

 _Not very convincing, babe._

He pulled at his shirt and rubbed his neck.

"What time are you coming back? Sonny and Laf are leaving me soon."

"I'm probably gonna stay to help my sister make dinner, but I won't stay for it. I'll be back in, like, an hour."

 _I miss you._ "Are you sure you're okay? Not just today… just recently," I asked tentatively.

He nodded too quickly, his lips a thin line. I didn't believe him, not for one minute.

"Has Laf been bugging you about me?" He asked.

"What? No… no. I just care about you. I want to know you're okay." _That was true._

John almost laughed, he looked away and licked his bottom lip, "he's _totally_ been bugging you about me." _That was also true._

I sighed, "well?"

"Well, what?"

"What's going on?" I asked.

He sat up straighter, he looked almost angry, more irritated, "nothing that's a cause for concern is going on. I am fine. I am well. Please don't worry about me when there isn't anything to worry about."

There was a long, painfully loud silence. I tapped my foot on the floor until he finally spoke.

"Look, I'm gonna start making dinner now. I'll see you soon, yeah? We can do Sherlock hot cocoa… sound good?"

I smiled at him affectionately… _affectionately? Damn, what happened to you, Alex_ , "Yeah. That sounds good. See you soon."

He hung up and I did some more studying on my laptop. Midterms were soon. Sonny came out of our room dressed in a navy blue shirt and dark jeans.

"Go on, give us a twirl," I said, shutting my laptop.

He did as he was told and strutted the length of the living room. I clapped enthusiastically and wished him luck as he left. Laf was next, waving on his way out the door. Finally, I was alone.

I shut my eyes and lay on the sofa. My eyes were tired from staring at the computer for so long and another rough night's sleep. I dreamt about Peter. Maybe that's why I was particularly worried about John.

My phone buzzed on the floor and I opened my eyes. The lights seemed brighter than they were moments ago. I squinted and picked up my phone. Twenty minutes had passed. Had my eyes been closed for that long? I thought it had only been a few seconds.

I had two texts. One from **Laf, 9 minutes ago** and the more recent one from **John, just now.**

Laf. **Won't be back tonight. Staying at Herc's. Bad leg.**

John. **I'm on my way.**

I turned off my phone and sat up, cracking my back. I washed my face and set some mugs out for hot cocoa. My laptop was already out so I propped it up on the desk in my recently cleaned room. John unlocked the door and called my name. I walked out to see him and finished the cocoa. He beamed when he saw me, "hi."

"Hi," I said.

He strode over to me and locked his lips with mine, delicate and soft. He chuckled against my mouth, "I missed you."

 _Me, too,_ "you saw me yesterday."

"Too long. Cocoa?"

I passed him his mug and grabbed my own, then walked into my room. He followed behind me and flopped onto my bed. He pulled his hair tie out and let the curls fall around him, everywhere. Beautiful. He blew a strand out of his face in a huff.

"Nice change of scenery from the living room, huh?" he mused.

"Laf cleaned in here so it's all nice."

He sat up and leaned his back against the wall, concern evident in his face, "Laf was cleaning, as in 'stress-cleaning'? In here?"

I nodded, "he's worried about you. But slightly annoyed at you. But mostly worried."

John shook his head, "he shouldn't be."

I sat down next to him and leaned on his shoulder. He bent forward and pressed play on my laptop, taking his mug from where he had left it on the desk and rested his head on top of mine. He finished his cup long before I did. I still had a little left, mostly cream that hadn't melted. He grinned at me, a mischievous grin.

"What?" I asked.

If possible, his grin grew, "you got a little something there. I'll get it."

He leaned in and licked cream from my lip, his mouth lingered over mine for a second too long for me to be able to resist. I connected our lips again and his hand rubbed up my leg. I shuddered and kissed him harder, hungrier. I felt him grin that God forsaken grin and moved my hand to his beautiful, perfect hair, tugging it slightly. He moaned into my mouth and moved closer to me on the creaking bed. He took the mug from my hand and moved it to the desk before kissing me again. My heart was pounding in my chest, enjoying every second. Feeling anxious and excited and everything all at once. It was an intoxicating feeling. All I could think about was how much I wanted him. I felt my jeans grow tighter and my breath hitched when his hand slid up my thigh to my crotch, feeling the hardness there. I flushed and pulled back, biting my lip. He moved his hand, thinking I was uncomfortable, I wanted to move it back where it was, I wasn't uncomfortable. He rested his forehead on mine, our noses brushing against each other.

"You good?" he asked me, serious undertones in his voice I rarely heard with him.

I nodded and kissed him again, lifting one leg over his to straddle him. He made an 'oomph' sound in surprise, not unlike the one he made when the dog jumped onto his chest. His hand travelled under the back of my shirt. They were cooler than my warm skin and it sent tingles down my spine. The other hand traced the bottom of my shirt, tugging lightly as if asking for permission. I complied to his silent demand and removed my shirt, chucking it onto Sonny's bed.

"You're so beautiful," he mused, his voice hoarse.

He shifted on the bed and manoeuvred me so that I was underneath him. He nipped at my collarbone, searching for the right spot. He found it. He trailed down my chest to my navel, and then further down to my waistband. He stopped there and looked up to me, "you still good?"

"God, yes. Please- I mean, yeah…"

He smirked and unzipped my jeans, "I gotchu."

He pulled down my boxers and found my dick, already hard and waiting. He moved back up my body to kiss me. I felt so vulnerable and completely at his mercy, but he made me feel safe, whispering reassurance in my ear before he slunk down my body and spilt his hair over my hips. He licked down the slit of my penis, wet and warm. I gasped when he went from swirling the tip with his tongue to taking me in all the way, bobbing his head up and down. My hand held his head, pulling the hair, and he moaned over my dick. Vibration. I arched my back off the bed and groaned, low and loud, as I came in his mouth, he swallowed every drop. He rose up to my face and kissed along my jawline.

"That okay for you, babe?" he panted.

"Y- yeah. Yes. Definitely. How can you possibly so good?"

He winked at me, "I am a man of many talents."

He fidgeted in his jeans and propped himself up on one elbow. My gaze travelled down his body to the bulge at his crotch.

"What about you? You could- if you wanted to, I mean- just…"

He tucked my hair behind my ear, "tell me what you want. What do you want, 'Lex?"

I loved the way he said that. ' _Lex._ I didn't think I wanted to hear my name said a different way to that.

"You. Fuck, I want you, John."

"Are you sure? I mean, have you… before?"

I nodded, "yeah."

He sat up and half smiled, "m'kay, if you're sure… one second. Lemme see if Laf has anything."

He got off of the bed and went to his bedroom. I could hear him rummaging through the drawers. I felt nervous. _Really_ nervous. It had been a while, and I really liked John. He returned with a bottle of lube and a condom. He wore a sheepish grin and it somehow made me feel better. Maybe he felt that way, too. He took off his shirt and jeans, only his boxers remaining. He climbed back on top of me and leaned close to my ear, "are you absolutely sure about this? You don't have to."

I cupped his cheek, "I want to."

He took my hand and kissed it lightly. He knelt in front of me and lubed his fingers. I shifted my body further down the bed for him and opened the gap between my legs. His eyes caught mine and he crawled over me so that his mouth was a ghost over mine. Slowly, he ran his fingers over my entrance and pressed one finger in. I took a sharp intake of breath and bit my lip at the sensation.

"Good?"

"Good."

"That's… good." Past the second knuckle.

I moved under him, making myself more open for him and leaned up so that our lips met. I never wanted them to part. I flicked my tongue out in search of more contact with him. His tongue fought against me as he pumped his finger in and out of me. He added a second. I lost the fight. I gripped his shoulder as he stretched me out slowly and gently, my face twisting in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Mostly pleasure.

"More?" he asked, tapping a third finger on the inside of my thigh.

"More… please?"

He complied and I bit down hard on my bottom lip, most likely drawing blood. It felt good. He felt so good. He worked me open for a few minutes longer.

"John, fuck, please have me?" I whimpered, lightly tracing the waist of his boxers, not wanting to wait any longer.

He quirked an eyebrow and rolled his lip in his teeth, "you sure?"

I nodded enthusiastically, "yes. I need you."

"Say no more."

He knelt up again and took of the cotton boxers, ripping open the condom and rolling it down his shaft. I was hard again. He sucked at my tip and I moaned as he pulled away, lining himself up.

"Ready?"

I gripped the sheet, bracing myself for him, "yeah."

Painstakingly slowly, he sheathed himself into me. He was big. _Fuck._ I pushed my head back into the bed as it creaked with the movement on top of it.

"Talk to me, 'Lex. Doing okay?" he whispered loud enough for me to hear.

"I'm good. You feel so good. Don't stop," I panted.

He smiled dopily and pushed deeper as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I cried out and he slowed down, letting me adjust. I crashed our mouths together and moaned into his mouth at every thrust, hitting the right place. My dick rubbed against his stomach, the friction sending me over the edge. I rolled my head back and spilt in between us. I urged him to keep going, meeting him with each thrust. He pulled at my hair as his eyebrows came together, twisted in ecstacy. He dropped on my chest, grunting as he came.

"'Lex... fuck. You're so…. Ay, Dios, fuck."

He pulled out slowly and lay beside me, panting. He knotted the condom, huffed and got up again.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Just getting a towel… and getting rid of this, back in a minute."

He disappeared and returned with a wet cloth, passing it to me. I wiped myself clean with it and passed it back to him. He grinned and repeated my action, chucking it on the floor when he was done and rested his head on my rising and falling chest. He drew shapes on my arm with his finger.

"You… okay?" I asked, worried for a moment.

"I'm so, so good right now," he beamed at me and kissed my temple, "you?"

"I think the word 'good' has lost all meaning at this point," I chuckled, "but I am, so unbelievably good."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Sonny crept back into our room in the early hours of the morning, his shoes in his hand. He didn't seem to notice John lying next to me, or that I was there, awake.

"Asshole, what time do you call this?" I whisper-shouted.

He jumped and dropped the shoes on the bed. John stirred and rolled closer to my side. I put a finger to my mouth. Sonny nodded and crouched next to my bed.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"You didn't answer my texts, I was worried."

He grimaced, "it went better than I thought it would…"

I rolled my eyes as he swayed, grinning dopily, "you're drunk, aren't you?"

He frowned, "no."

"Yes."

"Tiny bit. But I had a good time!"

I shushed him when John started to mumble in his sleep. I waited till his breathing steadied out again, "go to sleep, you can tell me about it later. Okay?"

"Why are your clothes on my bed?"

I flushed, "we'll talk about it later. Go to sleep."

Looking at me sceptically, Sonny nodded and moved his shoes to the floor, not bothering to change his clothes, and climbed into bed. It wasn't long before I could hear his snoring and I could finally relax.

I rubbed my face with my free hand - the other arm was trapped underneath John - and looked at my phone for the time. It was early, but I could have probably gotten away with getting up now. I couldn't sleep. I eased my arm out from under John and shushed him when he stirred, waiting till he was asleep again before getting dressed and leaving the room. I took my laptop with me and finished an English essay I'd been avoiding. The words that usually came so easily felt stuck in my brain. They were there, but they wouldn't arrange themselves in the right order. I forced myself to write word after word until it was done. Good or not, it was done. I didn't want to think about it anymore.

I put on my jacket and shoes and braved the dark streets. It was cold, _so fucking cold,_ and I pulled the jacket tightly around myself as I approached the coffee shop I knew would be open this early. It was near the bar. I almost went there, but I still couldn't face it again. I told Laf I would help pick up shifts but I'd let him down. The bad dreams about the night we found him, John and I - no, John found him, he took charge, he stayed calm - they had become more frequent to the point I just avoided sleep anyway.

I opened the coffee shop door and walked in. It was warmer in here. A few people, mainly tired looking people who were on their way to work and dressed in their uniforms, sat with their eyes unfocused, sipping at coffee in a hope to wake themselves up. I joined a queue and ordered a strong americano from a tired looking teenager. She had long, dark brown hair that was tied back into two long braids. She looked familiar, but I couldn't match her face.

"Name?" she asked through a yawn.

"Hamilton."

She looked up, her mouth slightly ajar, "Alex Hamilton?"

I hesitated, "yeah? Do I know you?"

She smiled, "nah. Do you know a John Laurens?"

I nodded once, slowly. Her grin grew wider.

"I'm Mimi, his favourite sister. I've heard a lot about you," she winked.

I smiled back. She did look like John, only with less freckles.

"It's nice to meet you. I've heard a fair bit about you, too."

"All good things, I hope?" she tilted her head, fighting back another yawn.

I nodded and she passed me my americano.

"Hey, can we take a picture? Just to annoy him," she asked, her eyes were deep brown, unlike John's green ones, they were pleading.

I couldn't resist, "sure. Why not?"

She came around the counter and pulled out her phone, turning it back on. She held it in front of us and pulled a funny face. I laughed at her and grinned weakly, embarrassed, at the camera.

"Great, thank you. I'll send it to him. It was great meeting you, Alex," she said, returning to her post serving coffee.

"You, too," I replied, leaving.

I walked back to the dorm and sat on the floor, laptop open on the sofa and drank my coffee. I heard John moving in my room and he walked out, covering himself in my duvet, his clothes under his arm. He stood in front of me.

"You… met my sister," he croaked, his voice sounding strained and sore.

I nodded, "she was nice."

"She is," he mused and went back into his room to get dressed.

I did some more studying and felt my eyes starting to droop shut. I was so tired that I let them for a moment, my head resting on the sofa.

"'Lex?"

I jumped awake, not aware that I was starting to drift asleep, "sorry, sorry, yeah?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just checking you were alright."

"I'm alright. Just tired, I guess."

He bit his lip, "last night… was okay with you, right? I mean, not that it wasn't with me, it was great. I was just- I mean, I was wondering… about you."

I stood up and hugged him, feeling his chin press into my shoulder, "it was great. So so good. It was okay with me, don't worry."

"Good?"

"Amazing," I reassured him.

He nodded against me and kissed my cheek, "you do look tired."

I looked away. He rubbed my arm.

"Why don't you go back to bed? I've returned your duvet and everything."

I wanted to argue, so badly. But I didn't have the energy. My forehead brushed against the stubble on his chin and I yawned. He squeezed his arms around my waist. Tighter. I thought of Peter again. _Nope, not going to sleep now._

"Nah, I'm not going back to bed now. Things to do," I forced a smile.

"Sure?" he asked.

"Positive."

He lay on the sofa, moving the laptop to the side. He patted the tiny space next to him and I rolled my eyes, he was persuasive. I tucked myself next to him and rested my head on his steadily rising chest. He brushed my hair out of my eyes and hummed to me until I finally fell asleep. We shared moments like this for the next week. Little naps together, brushing against each other, snogging when everyone else was in a different room. More than snogging when people were out of the apartment. It got to Sunday and John's mood shifted. He was more serious.

"What was the deal?" I asked.

"I go to family dinner every Sunday, I can carry on doing what I want whilst still keeping up appearances for his 'business'," he sighed, pulling a blazer tighter.

"But… why the fancy clothes? Not that I dislike them…"

He smiled and shook his head wearily, "appearances. He said people could be joining us at some dinners, so I have to look like I'm not a mostly disowned heir."

"Those words?" I grimaced.

He did up his top shirt button, "I might be paraphrasing."

He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, "I'll be back soon."

He kissed me on his way out and left, clearing his throat. Probably trying to clear his thoughts, too. Laf had his leg propped up on a cushion and was typing on his laptop. I sat on the floor beside him, coffee and notebook in hand, a pen in my hair bun.

He nudged me with his elbow, "mon ami, could you check this essay for me? I worry about my English."

"Sure," I nodded as he passed me his laptop, "I'm sure your English is fine, Laf."

I scrolled through the psychology essay and made one or two corrections. Nothing big, mainly simple grammar mistakes that even I made, everyone made those mistakes. I asked him what he was writing about specifically.

"The Basics of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy. My brain is going to break, this is hard."

"You'll get through it, and I doubt you'll need therapy after you've written it," I joked.

"Not me I'm worried about, mon ami…" he trailed off, changing the subject, "would you be a darling and make a coffee?"

I smiled and got up for him, prepping two mugs. Sonny had a second date tonight. The last one had apparently gone really well. At least that's what I'd heard, he hadn't stopped talking about it since he sobered up. It made me happy just to see how happy he was, and that was enough for me. He walked passed me, bouncing on his heels. He waved goodbye to Laf and patted my shoulder on his way out. _Weirdo, you never do that._ He was happy.

Laf and I sat around a pizza together, sharing it while we watched a new show on Netflix. It was late by the time John came home, huffing and going straight into the shower. Not a word was said between us, any of us. Nothing. Laf and I exchanged a look but shrugged it off as John being exhausted from spending so long with his dad. We settled back to the show we were watching. His face was red raw when he returned with an oversized hoodie and grey sweatpants. He looked upset. I opened my mouth to ask what had happened but he held up a hand and shook his head. By the look of the expression John gave to me and Laf, both of us were going to ask him the same thing. The question was not to be asked. He sat next to me on the floor and leaned on my shoulder.

"What are we watching?" he asked, his voice tired and sore sounding.

"Dunno. Laf picked. It's good, though."

Laf smiled down at us and fiddled with John's wet curls. John squirmed and fidgeted even though I had seen Laf do that multiple times before without John even batting an eye. What was up with him?

"John, how was dinner?" Laf asked.

John shrugged and turned around out of Laf's reach, "alright, I guess. Not terribly bad, just not terribly great either. I'm gonna go to bed early, if that's alright with you guys?"

"It's fine with us, see you in the morning, " Laf replied.

I silently agreed with a slightly curled lip, though the puzzlement I felt must have been as plain on my face as the fact that the grass is green. He squeezed my hand and pecked me once on the lips, and then he went to bed without another word. Laf was next after him. I stayed up a little, using Sonny as an excuse. He texted me after and hour or so to say that he wouldn't be coming back home tonight. I rolled my eyes and unplugged my laptop, bringing it to bed with me. I was up to date with all of my essays and I was bored of studying. I thought back to the last time I did something creative and fun, I couldn't remember. I pulled open an empty document and began to write down the words as they came to me, flowing from my mind to my fingertips as they pressed down on the keys. Not quick enough. I needed to improve my typing skills. I began to write a poem, loving the structures available as well as the challenge of finding rhythm and rhyme in each line. It was all I did in the foster home. All I did all my life, actually.

I closed my eyes as I typed, the bright light from the screen was burning through my retinas and I was so tired, I began to fall asleep. I jolted awake suddenly when my head fell against the wall. _That fucking hurt_. I turned off my computer and closed my eyes again, willing myself to succumb to sleep at last. I was so tired. So so tired. I didn't dream that night, for once, though if I did then I didn't remember enough to know whether it was a good one or, more likely, a bad one. Either way I managed to sleep without waking up _terribly_ early. Emphasis on terribly. I walked out of the dorm without waking anyone and went back to the coffee shop. The sky was a deep, navy colour, the sun not yet beginning to rise between the buildings. _Damn skyscrapers wrecking the sunrise._

Mimi was wiping a table when I entered. I tensed and slowed down, hoping she wouldn't see me. She did. Her face lit up when she saw me and I was reminded again of John. I didn't know why their faces changed when they saw me. Just Hamilton, no big deal. It's not like they just met Julie Andrews or anything. _Thanks for showing me Mary Poppins, John. Those songs are so good and I can't get them out of my head. Ever. Thanks a bunch, babe._

"G'mornin'," she said, her southern accent was stronger than John's, his had undertones that reminded me of my mother. Every time he accidentally rolled an 'r'. Every time he spoke so quickly I had to ask him to slow down.

"Morning," I replied, walking to the counter.

There were less customers and less staff today. She held up her hand as if to say, "just give me a minute" and finished spraying and wiping the last part of the table. She smiled sweetly as she made her way behind the counter, "what can I get for ya?"

"Strong americano, please," I ordered.

"Coming right up."

She turned around and turned on the coffee machine. I tapped my room key against the counter, the sound muffled by the machine, and looked at some of the leaflets next to the tray of muffins. I glanced over them but didn't read them, I just didn't want to make awkward conversation with John's sister. She had other ideas.

"So, how's- is John okay?" she asked, furrowing her brows, "y'know, after last night?"

I opened my mouth to speak but no sound come out, I closed it and tried again, "wait… what happened last night?"

Her face burned a bright rose as she fell over her words, "oh, I- uh, well. I mean, y'know."

I raised an eyebrow, "what happened?"

"Just… John and my dad had a… disagreement. That's all. It's all good, just a disagreement... Here's your coffee, on the house."

"...Okay, I'll speak to him. Can you even do 'on the house'? Won't you get in trouble?"

She sighed, "not if you run fast enough. Don't push him... please? And tell him I love him for me?"

I nodded and thanked her, making my way back home. I took a different route and found myself passing Peter's apartment. I thought about going up there but quickly changed my mind. _Nope. Definitely not._ I kept my eyes firmly set on the ground and walked to the dorm pretending that I hadn't walked past there. John was still in the same oversized hoodie, pulled up to his chin, and sweatpants on the sofa, fidgeting with a loose string, zoned out. His long curls framed his face as he stared intensely at nothing in particular.

"Morning," I said, closing the door behind me.

He turned and looked at me, "hey."

I took a sip of the coffee and sat next to him, "ran into your sister again today…"

"Oh?" he said absentmindedly, not really listening.

I nodded, even though he wasn't watching, "uh huh. She told me to tell you she loves you and she hopes you're okay after… what happened last night."

That caught his attention. His eyes were wide and they darted across my face. I flushed, confused.

"What did she say about last night?" he said, a little forcefully. He must have noticed that because he eased up, "just, I mean- did, did she say?"

He was speaking so frantically, falling over his words.

"She didn't say, just that you and your dad had a disagreement. Sorry, what's wrong, John? You can tell me."

He smiled weakly at me and nodded a few times. His face was blank, but his eyes betrayed anxiety. He stood up and pulled me up with him. I stood before him and him before me. He kissed me softly and brushed my hair out of my eyes, "don't you have class today?"

"I- yeah. Yeah, I do. Do you want the rest of my coffee?" I asked. " _Don't push him… please?"_

"If it's on offer…" he shrugged.

I gave him the cup and rubbed his shoulder. He winced a little. _Don't push him…_

I grabbed my bag from my room and tied my hair up. I would have looked fairly decent had it not been for the dark bags under my eyes.

I waved goodbye and went to class. I scribbled down notes for the next essay we had to write. Easy enough. I went to the local library and did some more studying, finished the essay we had just been given and left when I could bare the annoying, gossiping students no more. It was colder and darker. _Why do I never bring a coat?_ I took the stairs to the dorm and unlocked the door with the hand that wasn't juggling books. Before I had even opened the door I could hear a shouting match. It reminded me of my mother and father before he left.

I pushed the door open. Laf was shouting at John in French and gesturing to the whole of his body. John's sweatpants hung low on his waist. His back faced me and he didn't seem to notice I had returned. His hair was wet, running down his back. He picked up his hoodie and put it on.

"It's not a big deal, Laf! Just shut up about it, I'm fine!"

"Fine? Regarde toi! Regarde ce qu'il t'a fait! Ne voyez-vous pas à quel point c'est mauvais?"

"I don't even know what you're saying!"

I shut the door and put down everything in my hands, "who's done what? What's so bad?"

John froze, looking the other way. I could see his body tense from behind. Laf walked over to me and took me by the arm, I tensed, too.

"He doesn't think this is a big deal!" he shouted.

"What the fuck is going on?" I started shouting, too.

John groaned, he stopped raising his voice. It somehow made it worse, "it's not a big deal. Why do you always have to make it into something it isn't. You aren't my fucking carer."

I was so confused.

"John, turn around."

He didn't turn around. He pulled his hands through his hair and let out a long shaky breath.

"Laf, what-" I started.

John sighed and turned around, "it's not a big deal."

Laf approached John and put his hand on his shoulder. John flinched at the quick movement and let out another heavy breath. John pulled down his hoodie slightly revealing a series of dark purple bruises lining his neck. Handmarks.

"Holy shit…" I gasped, looking closer at them.

John looked away, not making eye contact with anyone. Laf tapped him on the arm and he rolled his eyes, pulling his hoodie back over his head. More deep purple welts were scattered across his abdomen like a disease. His collarbone had a gash in it, bruising a green colour.

"What the f-"

John grabbed his hoodie and put it back on hastily, "it's nothing. We had a disagreement. It was nothing. It was mild."

I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn't think of what to say, "I- I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

I closed the distance between us and hugged him, being extra careful where I put my arms. His breath caught in his throat. He didn't move. I was about to let go when he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm okay, really," he insisted.

Laf sighed and went to bed, shutting the door behind him. John and I stayed holding each other for a few more minutes.

"I'm okay," he mumbled.

I nodded, "I know."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"Do you know where my notebook is?"

John was knelt on the floor and looking under the sofa. He held his phone in his hand, turning on the flashlight.

"Is it not in your room?" Sonny suggested, drinking a coffee he had just made.

"Maybe, I didn't see it. Laf? Have you seen it?"

Lafayette was on the phone, he held it to his chest to answer John, "one moment, Herc... Uhm, is it a burgundy colour?"

John nodded, "yeah. Big and burgundy."

"It's in between the rest of the books on your desk. Can't miss it…. What were you saying, Herc?"

John got up and cracked his neck in the process, grimacing. He turned off the light on his phone and found his notebook. He grabbed his jacket and tied the laces of his trainers. His hair was tied up in a messy bun, so messy it might as well not have been a bun at all. I waved him off and continued the poem I had started. It had been a few weeks since the incident with John and his dad, the bruises had mostly all gone. He didn't want to talk about it anymore, so we didn't. He kept going to family dinners but refused to tell us what happened there. Today he was going to the Schuyler's to work on his songs. That would hopefully cheer him up.

"Alex, come to the library with me?" Sonny said, "I've got loads of essays to write and I'm dumb and I need a genius."

"You're not dumb."

"But will you come?"

I rolled my eyes, "obviously, you need help."

"Sweet. Laf?"

The frenchman smiled, "not today, mon ami. I'm going to the hospital later."

Sonny nodded and brought his shoes as well as mine to the living room. I thanked him and put them on, pulling the jacket around myself tightly. _Damn New York weather._ What happened to the sun I used to get? _Oh yeah, the whole reason you're in New York in the first place, dumbass._ We walked to the library together. He'd been back for weeks, borderline months, but it still felt so weird. He was here, in front of me. Alive. He'd… forgiven me. We were friends again. It felt weird.

"What's on your mind, Jandro?"

"Jandro? You haven't called me that in years…"

He giggled, "don't get all nostalgic on me."

"Me? Nostalgic?" I scoffed, "I perish at the thought."

He bumped into my shoulder and smiled softly, "no, seriously. What you thinking?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

I grinned, "uh huh. Come on, it's cold."

We sat at a desk in the library together. He pulled out his laptop and showed me what he had so far. I rubbed my temples against my exhaustion. _Still not sleeping._ We stayed at the library for a few hours, passing the laptop back and forth between each other until Sonny had finished his essays. We laughed after the librarian came around to tell us to be quiet, it had happened so often in Nevis. We went to the park with two hot cocoas and walked for a bit.

The leaves were starting to fall from the branches as they turned a beautiful shade of amber, not unlike the reflection of the spirits in Peter's bar. _Stop thinking about it._ The sun was shining through the gaps of the trees, the wind blowing through. Sonny and I fell into a comfortable silence, just walking. We went around a few times and finally decided to sit down for a while. We found a rusting bench and sat down, watching ducks swim in a pond.

"This is crazy," he mused.

"What is?"

He turned around to face me, taking a sip of his drink, "I never thought I'd see you again. But here you are, being my roommate. It's crazy."

"I suppose it is, huh?"

"We should get back, I'm really fucking cold."

"Agreed."

We walked back and were greeted with an empty dorm. Laf's walking stick had gone. _Hospital._ Sonny went for a shower and I wrote some more, sat on the sofa. I put on some piano music and closed my eyes as I typed.

"Alex!" Sonny called.

I jumped, nearly knocking the laptop off my chest, "yes, wh- what? What is it?"

"I'm going, I've been trying to wake you for five minutes."

"Going?"

I looked at him. He was dressed in a shirt and jeans, but he had a bag with sweats in it.

"Yes, going. Date."

I nodded in understanding, "right, yeah. Sorry, I forgot. You staying out?"

He went a funny shade of pink and I bit back a laugh, "prob- that's. Yeah, I think so."

"Okay, well, text me."

"I will. Laters," he opened the door and stepped out.

"Bye."

He was gone. I got up off the sofa and closed my laptop. I stretched and changed into more comfortable clothes. My head felt so heavy. I fell asleep on the sofa for an hour or two. For the first time in a while, my dreams weren't so cruel. Well, I didn't remember what I had dreamt about at all, so it couldn't have been that bad. I sat up and rubbed my face, checking the time on my phone. Laf had texted to say he'd be back later after a shift at the bar. John would be home soon. An hour from now, he had said. I washed the sleep from my face and read a book, bored. I turned my phone off, not wanting the distraction.

I started to clean the dorm a little, picking up books and shoes, moving them to where I wouldn't fall and make a fool of myself when I walked through. I heard the lock click and turned around.

"Hey," I said.

"Hi," John replied, his face red. Probably from the cold. He seemed off, distant.

"Are you alright?"

He didn't answer. He moved towards me and cupped my cheek, pressing his forehead against my own. Cold. His lips found mine and he backed me against the wall. I gripped his arm, thinking I might have fallen over otherwise. I opened my mouth, allowing him entrance as his tongue flicked out. Hungry and searching. I ran a hand through his hair and shuddered as his cold hand travelled up my shirt, sending chills through my body. He still hadn't answered my question.

"John…" I started.

He targeted the spot on my neck he knew was my favourite, lapping his tongue over it. I moaned involuntarily. His hand fiddled with my waistband. I so almost gave in. I sighed and reluctantly pulled his face up so I could see him clearly.

"John-" he cut me off.

"What is it? Do you not want to? Sorry, we- we can stop," he started to pull away.

I caressed his cheek with my thumb, "what? No. No, no, that's not it. Look at me."

He did so, his eyes frantically scanning my face.

"John, what's wrong?"

His green eyes seemed dull and unfocused, like he couldn't concentrate on anything, "nothing, I'm fine…"

"Babe, I don't know where you are, but it's not here. You can tell me the truth."

He opened his mouth and shut it again, his words getting caught in his throat. He backed off of me and rubbed his face in his palms.

"Is it about tomorrow?" I asked, knowing he'd have to see his dad again.

His eyes were glazed as he took a few steps backwards, bumping into the counter like he wasn't expecting it.

He furrowed his brows, confusion clearly set in his features, "tomorrow? What's- what's happening tomorrow?"

I stared at him, mouth open. Now _I_ was confused.

"It's Sunday tomorrow," I prompted, hoping he'd catch on.

"Is it?" he pulled his hair back tightly and let it go. He started to pace the room, moving as if there was a hurricane inside of him, mumbling something I couldn't pick up. His eyes were shining and wet, tears welling up. I could tell he was holding them back. His breathing was all wrong, beginning to gasp like there wasn't enough oxygen in the air. He stopped pacing for a moment. He walked to the cupboard and started rooting through it, bottles clinking against each other. I winced at the sound. Sweat was beading on his forehead.

"John… Talk to me, please?"

He pulled out a bottle of whisky and poured it into a small glass. He picked it up and raised it to his lips, hands shaking. Laf opened the door and made John jump, dropping the glass. It smashed on the floor.

"Shit…. shit, shit, shit. I'm so sorry," he bent down and picked up the pieces with his bare hands, scratching the skin.

"What happened, mon ami?" Laf asked, more to me than to John.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't do anything but watch as John fell apart in front of me. He gave up trying to restrain the tears as they dripped down his face, joining the spilt whisky on the floor. His hands were bleeding, but he kept picking up the glass. I was rooted to the spot.

Laf dropped his coat and bent down in front of John, avoiding the rest of the glass, "mon ami, can I touch you?"

He nodded very subtly, almost unregistrable.

"Stand up for me?" Laf held out his hand, John stared at it.

"But the- But the glass-"

"Doesn't matter. Stand up?"

John dropped the pieces on the floor and sobbed. He almost rubbed his eyes but Laf grabbed his wrists, noticing the tiny pieces of glass still in his hands. John flinched at the sudden contact, his breath visibly catching in his throat. Laf helped him stand up. His head fell onto Laf's shoulder and he wept, staining Laf's shirt with the tears. This went on for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. His crying had been interrupted a few times by coughing fits from not getting enough air. Laf rubbed circles on his back as he gripped his shirt tightly in his white-knuckled fists, red patches bleeding into the white fabric of Lafayette's shirt. Mobility returned to my feet and I got a dustpan and brush from under the bathroom sink. Laf managed to manoeuvre John away from the spot with the glass and got him to sit down. My hands were trembling slightly as I swept the broken glass up and threw it away.

"Alex, can you do me a favour?" Laf asked a few minutes later.

"I- yeah. Yes. Of course."

He grimaced over John's shoulder at me, "I know you don't like showers… but can you put ours on for me. You don't have to get in, just… can you turn it on? Not freezing, but kinda cold. He's burning up."

I hesitated and shut my eyes. _Not the time._ I nodded and went to their bathroom. I stood in front of the shower for a second, glaring at it. _Why was it always associated with something bad? Always._ I bit down hard on my lip, looking the other way and adjusted the temperature on the dial before turning the shower head on. It came out almost instantly and I disguised the sound of surprise I made with a cough. I left it running and returned to where Laf was cleaning John's hands with a wipe.

John lifted one hand to his hair and tugged it slightly.

"Laf?" he choked between sobs.

"What is it?" He replied gently, looking up to his trembling best friend.

"I'm really- I'm really dizzy. My head…"

Laf looked mildly concerned, "it's alright. That's... normal. Come on, let's get you in the shower and then bed. Yes?"

"No, it's- I don't- I can't… Laf… shit."

"It's alright. It's gonna be alright. Me and Alex are here."

He nodded. Again, barely registrable. He moved his hand from his hair and rubbed his face with his sleeve. He sniffed and tried to regain control of his breathing, struggling. Laf stood up and held out his hand for John, who gripped his arm to steady himself. Laf felt his forehead with the back of his hand and sighed, hugging his best friend. It was his mouth's turn to become more frantic, talking like he didn't have enough time to say the words he needed to. His words crowded together, some of them missing. His sentences were fragmented and his thoughts seemed to jump from one thing to another, like he couldn't stop speaking but he couldn't keep up with his brain either, in some kind of mental free-fall.

"I'm really sorry… I did it again, didn't I? I fucked up, didn't I? Didn't I? Why do I- and I can't think- too loud. I can't stop- crap, me due- me duele al respirar. Quiero ir a casa. Quiero a mi- mi mamá," he rambled.

Laf rocked him in his arms, his words bouncing off of John like hard rain, and turned to me, "can you get him a towel and sweats?"

I did what I was asked. I felt so useless, pathetic. Why couldn't I help him? After he'd helped me. I couldn't do anything.

Laf managed to get him into the shower and I sat on the sofa, for a half hour, feeling helpless and stupid. I couldn't believe what had happened. I was usually on the receiving end of these situations, never usually the one who was supposed to help. I wanted to help. I wanted to make it go away for him. I noticed the bottle of whisky still opened on the counter. The least I could do was put it away. The least. I fixed us all hot cocoa and sat down again, fidgeting in my spot, unsure of what to do. Did I go and help Laf with the shower? Did I stay out of it? Did I help get him to bed? What did I do? I picked at a hangnail and waited.

He walked out around ten minutes later, dressed in the clothes I'd gotten for him and red in the face, but not crying anymore. I knew he would have been tired. He looked flushed. I smiled at him reassuringly and gave him the cocoa. He took it gratefully and smiled back weakly.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Just tired. Look… I'm really sorry."

"Don't be, babe. It's alright, it's not your fault."

He frowned, "I shouldn't have acted like that. I really am sorry. So sorry."

I shook my head, "no. No, don't be silly. It's okay. You haven't done anything wrong. I'm sorry I didn't help you."

"You did help me."

He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed at his temples.

"Headache?"

He nodded.

"Do you want anything for it? I can get something."

"No. No, it's fine. I get them all the time. I don't take anything unless I'm dying. Not my style anymore. I just need to sleep it off."

I nodded and squeezed his hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. I knew they were cut on the other side, "see you in the morning."

"Mhm… yeah."

He kissed my forehead and mumbled another apology, stumbling into his and Laf's bedroom. The latter walked out of the bathroom with a bare torso, carrying a pile of clothes, his blood-stained shirt amongst them. He let out a hefty sigh and shut the bathroom door, sitting down next to me after putting the clothes in a basket.

"Has he gone to bed?" he asked.

"Yeah. You've got cocoa there. He okay? Well, I know he's not, but- I… you know what I mean."

Laf rested the mug of chocolate on his chest and looked at it thoughtfully, "I think he's okay. Well, he's not, as you said. But I don't think he's gonna go all the way not okay. We'll see how he is in the morning. Shower calmed him down a bit."

I chewed at my bottom lip, "I thought you were doing a shift tonight?"

He nodded, "I was. But Eliza called me to give me the heads up that John was being off. He still won't tell me what's bugging him. I tried to call you but your phone was off."

"Oh… sorry. I turned it off. I forgot. I should have kept it on."

We finished the drinks in silence. Laf took my mug with his and stood up. He took a glass of water to John, who had apparently already fallen asleep, and found a shirt to put on. I tried to read, but every time I turned the leaves of the book, I had to turn back because I couldn't remember what I had just read. I was looking at the words but they weren't sinking in. I gave up and dropped the book on the floor. Laf waited up with me for a little, though it felt as though he was only doing it out of pity, but finally called it a night. I yawned and decided to follow suit, returning to my empty room. Alone.

My head felt heavier than ever before and I was out cold the second my head touched the pillow. My sleep was undisturbed and it was light outside for the first time in weeks when I woke up. The oncoming winter had meant that it was always dark in the mornings, it threw me off to be able to see.

 _Sunday._ I remembered the state John was in and felt a wave of anxiety for him. Sonny and Laf were laughing together in the living room when I walked in, neither one looking up until I walked past and made myself a coffee.

"Ah, buenas tardes, Jandro," Sonny mocked our Abuela.

I rolled my eyes, though on the inside I was shocked, too, "whatever, asshole."

I turned to Laf, but he answered my question before it had even left my lips, "he's still in bed. I'd give him a few hours to himself. We helped him a lot last night and he's an independent ass, he's probably still being grouchy about it. He's not talking."

Sonny looked confused, "what do you mean?"

I shook my head, "doesn't matter. John was just upset last night."

"Understatement," Laf disguised as a cough. I glared at him. He softened, "sorry."

I braved a shower and got dressed. My hair dripped onto my shirt and I shivered as it soaked my back with cold water. Looking in the mirror, I saw the familiar bags under my eyes had gotten darker. But I slept half the day away? I went out to the coffee shop and bought everyone a drink. Mimi wasn't there. Not her shift at this time in the afternoon. Three lattes and an americano for me.

I opened John and Laf's bedroom door slowly and replaced the glass of water with the latte. John was sleeping. I looked at the clock. It was almost four in the afternoon, why was he still sleeping? He had to go to his dad's soon. Half an hour.

"John?" I whispered. His eyes opened, they still had a glazed look about them. "John?" I approached gingerly and crouched on the floor beside his bed.

He just blinked, rolling over in his bed and taking the covers with him.

"Come on, babe. Don't ignore me. I can see you're awake, you've got to go soon. I brought you coffee."

Still, nothing. I could see his breathing under the sheets, rhythmic and slow, but not asleep. He just stared at the wall, wrapped in blankets. I sighed. The ticking of the clock on his desk was the only thing I could hear beside my own beating heart. He didn't move. He didn't talk.

"John, please?" I whispered.

He just stayed there. I was starting to get annoyed, but I didn't want to be. Something was wrong, I couldn't get mad at him for that. But he could at least answer me.

"John."

He grunted a little bit, still staring at the wall.

"Why won't you answer me?" I pleaded.

He made a small noise that resembled a groan. I glared for a moment, desperately trying not to yell at him for scaring me. I took a deep breath in and released it slowly.

"I- Okay… right… alright. I'll- I'll see you later."

I walked out and shut the door behind me. Laf looked up from the sofa, "is he getting up?"

I shook my head, not really understanding what was happening. I didn't think he was going to go. Laf pulled out his phone and dialled a number.

"Hello? Ah, Mr. Laurens? … yes, this is Lafayette…. John's friend, we have met a few times… yes, that's the one. John is sick today, Mr. Laurens. I don't believe he will be able to make it to dinner this evening… he sends his apologies and he'll be there earlier next week… I am well, yes, thank you… she's- she's fine, we are doing well… okay. Thank you, have a good evening, " he hung up and threw his phone down next to him, "bastard."

"John's dad?" I asked.

Laf nodded with a look that spoke a thousand words. John was going to be in so much trouble. So much. But right now it seemed as though he didn't give a shit about that fact.

"If he's not going to his dad's, then I'm gonna go and get food for us all. Take out? Sonny, take out?"

"Yeah, let me get you some money," he replied.

I agreed, "yeah, me, too. I'll get some money."

Laf put an arm up in front of Sonny as he was about to get up, "don't be so stupid. I'm buying."

We tried to protest, but in the end it was just easier to let him buy it. I rested my head on Sonny's lap and sighed. He braided my hair absentmindedly and I pulled at my hoodie strings. We used to do that all the time back home. Whenever we didn't know what to do, I would lie down and think while he braided my hair. Always. Routine. It was comforting, but I couldn't think. I was confused and angry and worried and everything in between. Time passed by and still, not a sound from John. He couldn't stay in bed forever, he'd have to eat, drink, go to the toilet, shower, he'd have to move eventually.

Laf returned with burgers and fries, giving some to Sonny and I, leaving John's on his desk in case he wanted it. I saw him roll over again through the door so that he was again facing the wall. Laf rubbed his head and walked out, not bothering to try to talk. We ate the food and watched a show while Sonny did another essay under my supervision.

Not a word from that room.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

I saw John walking out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He had showered.

"Three... days… Three fucking days!" I yelled, "are you kidding me?"

John stood in the hallway, refusing to make eye contact with me. His hair was wet and tangled, his face tired. _How could he possibly be tired? He'd been in bed for three days._ I folded my arms in front of my chest.

He stayed very still as I continued, "for three days you've- you've not spoken, you've not eaten, you've barely touched the water. For three days you've stayed in bed doing nothing but ignore everyone. Nothing, not a single word to tell us you were alright!"

He looked down again and rubbed a palm over his face as a small child would rub its tired eyes. He didn't say anything, just let me rant at him. I felt my blood boil, I wanted him to fight back.

"Laf called a doctor, for fuck's sake!"

I watched his fist tighten, squeezing open and shut repetitively. Surely it would have left marks if he kept doing that. I instinctively took his hand in my own and opened his fist, putting my hand in its place. He squeezed it lightly, still looking down, but it was enough for my anger to deplete slightly. He drew circles on the back of my hand with his thumb thoughtfully.

"Doctor?" he croaked, having not used his voice in so long.

I nodded, "he made an appointment for Saturday with someone called Ellie."

He paused again and looked up. So far he had said only one word in three days, "ca- cancel it. Please?"

I stared at him, studying his face. Noticing the way his skin had paled, his freckles less obvious, but that could have been the dim lights in the early morning. His eyes were sunken. He looked at me and the fire I had seen in his eyes when we first met had been doused with ice water, if anything it made the bright green of the forests seem more like dried out grass, dull and burnt. I wasn't used to it from him, it unnerved me. I hesitated, "babe… we were really worried-"

"Please? Just, cancel it? I… I really don't need to see her anymore. Please?"

I sighed, "you can talk to Laf about it."

He let go of my hand and pulled wet strands of hair out of his face. I leaned against the wall and watched him. He rubbed his wrist with his other hand and fell back onto the same wall as me, sighing.

"I'm gonna go to the Schuyler's today," he decided.

"Are you sure?" I asked, just happy enough that he was out of bed.

He nodded slowly, "I think so, yeah. I just gotta get dressed and then I'll go. Wanna come? I- you don't have to. Just-"

"I'll come, let me just get my shoes."

He nodded and went into his room to get changed. I found my shoes and waited for him on the sofa. He didn't take long, just tying his wet hair back into a low ponytail, not bothering to dry it. He wore a burgundy hoodie and dark jeans. We took a cab to the Schuyler's and waited at the door after ringing the bell. John bounced on his heels as he waited. I bit my lip as the small girl in a light yellow sweater wrapped herself around me.

"Hi," I choked as Peggy's arms squeezed around my neck, constricting like a snake.

"Alex! I missed you. We have things to do, come on. Quick! Jackie! You, too. But, Angie and 'Liza are waiting in the piano room thingy. So I can wait for you. Alex, you aren't getting out of this, let's go."

I didn't have time to protest as she took me by the arm and up to her room. It was a beautifully disastrous mess of ideas and drawings. Balls of scrunched up paper littered the floor. That was if there _was_ a floor. I certainly couldn't see it if there was. Her bed was piled with pens and pencils and card and paper and every type of stationary one could imagine. Upon her desk, a pile of neatly stacked paper, presumably what she was working on. She cleared a space on the floor and sat down, beckoning for me to sit next to her as she pulled a sketchbook into her lap. I complied to her beckoning hand and sat down, cross-legged, on the floor beside her.

"Excuse the mess, but it's kind of my aesthetic, so just go with it. Okay, so look through this…" she said as she handed me the sketchbook.

I opened the first page and looked at all her incredible drawings. The first was an amazing drawing of a butterfly landing on a buddleia plant. Completely in pencil. Just, pure… pencil markings… to create something so beautiful and detailed.

"Holy shit… oh, I- uh, pardon my french. But damn, this is so good!" I praised her and her cheeks turned a warm pink.

I smiled at her and looked through some more of the book. Drawings of figures, birds, plants, landscapes. And then some of her family, her sisters, John. All of them were so accurate.

"What d'you think?" She asked.

"Peggy, these are so beautiful. So amazing."

"I want to draw you next," she flipped a pencil in between her fingers as she talked, "if you'll let me."

I looked up at her, my face heating up, "me?"

"Uh huh. You. The one and only."

"Why me?"

She blew a curl out of her face and tugged her sweater down, "I draw things that make me happy and help me. You helped me. You were nice to me. And I want to remember that. So, can I?"

I grinned involuntarily at her words, my cheeks starting to hurt, "I- ha… I- sure, why not?"

She beamed at me, pulling me in for another hug, this one from the side. Her head fell on my shoulder and I rested my chin on top of her hair, awkwardly patting her arm. She pulled back and stood up, dragging me by the arm with her.

"Right, well, not today. I'm tired. But let's go see what they're doing," she decided.

I agreed and we headed back downstairs to the room with the recording equipment. John stood by the piano, brushing his hand across it while the sisters sat on the sofa, talking quietly to John. Peggy knocked on the door and walked in, me close beside her. Eliza smiled at me, motioning for me to sit beside them both on the sofa. John curled his lip and nodded toward the sofa, too. Peggy sat on the arm of a chair, watching as John and the sisters returned to conversation.

"We could change the tempo?" John suggested.

Angelica shook her head, "nah, it's a sad message but the upbeat tempo keeps it… I dunno… it's like it shows that it doesn't have to be that way. It sends the message of the discrimination and inequality that's still around even now, but the tempo shows that we shouldn't lose hope or our pride because of that. And… I mean, it's catchy as fuck. But we need to decide whether we want it to be sad or inspiring."

"That is a solid point, but if it's not the tempo, what's it missing?" he leaned on the piano, smirking when Angelica scowled at him.

Eliza stood up, leaving me alone on the sofa with Angelica, "what if we mixed the tempo so that it's both at the same time?"

"What do you mean?"

Eliza walked over to the piano and sat down, pulling the music sheets towards her. She held out her hand and John gave her a pen.

"We could keep it slow at the start, so it's being careful to give the main message. And then, cut out the music for the pre-chorus so it's just your voice and then, boom, bass drop for the chorus and it can carry on like that until the bridge, but we can figure that part out later. How about that?" Eliza said, circling the parts she was talking about and annotating the sheet.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good," John agreed, looking over her shoulder at the paper.

He sat down beside her at the piano and cracked his fingers over the keys, starting to play the melody slowly, Eliza singing along. It was so mesmerising to watch them all working. Peggy picked at her nails, watching nothing in particular. Angelica rose to her feet, too. Now I was alone on the sofa, Peggy came to join me, crossing her legs on the cushion. John missed a key and cursed under his breath.

"Sorry, squirt," he apologised.

"I've heard worse, Jackie."

They worked for another half hour by which point Peggy had left to go back to her room. I stayed and wrote on my phone. I hated writing on my phone, such an annoying thing to do. The keyboard was too small and autocorrect kept changing everything to the exact opposite of what I wanted. _I know how to write, stupid phone._

"Are you sure you're alright, Jack?" Eliza asked hesitantly.

John breathed a laugh, "was the reference intended?"

She pressed her hand against his arm, "John."

He shrugged, "I know, I know. I'm joking, but I'm fine. I promise."

Angelica walked behind him and put her hands on his shoulders, "shouldn't make promises you can't keep, kid. Laf told us you did it again."

John's hands slipped on the keys and he stood up, smiling weakly at the girls watching him intently and sat down beside me.

"As you can see, I'm back, and I'm fine. It's not like last time. I swear on my sisters' lives."

The sisters glanced at each other and then looked back at John. I could practically feel his entire body tensing beside me. I knocked him slightly with my shoulder and he smiled at me.

"Are we done for today, then?" he asked, standing up and holding his arms open to embrace the sisters.

Angelica patted his back, "I'd say so. Be good, kid."

John stood to attention and saluted, "always."

They laughed and shared another hug. Eliza pulled me into it and I awkwardly accepted my fate of being squished half to death by people I barely knew. John grabbed my arm. _What is it with people grabbing my arm today?_ We walked to the entrance hall and John called out a goodbye to Peggy. We waited until we heard her slightly muffled yell back and left. We went back to the dorm in silence.

"Do you want anything to eat?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I dunno. I'm… not really hungry."

I stared, "you must be, you haven't eaten. Even I get hungry after that long."

He lay on the couch, twisting a strand of hair around his finger, shrugging again.

I realised that I wasn't going to get anything more out of him than that and fetched some money, heading back out into the cold of fall. The streets were filled with the aroma of spice and food. It was all very distracting. I didn't know what I should get for him. I walked into the coffee shop, surprised to see that Mimi was there. She normally did morning shifts.

She smiled at me and prepared an americano without me even having to ask.

"Can I get a latte, too, please?" I asked, eyeing the blueberry muffins on a stand behind the counter, "two of those, too, please."

"Coming right up," she grinned, putting the muffins into a small, cardboard box. "Is John alright? He still sick?"

I shook my head, "I- I don't think so. I think he's feeling a little better now."

She handed me the drinks and muffins, biting the corner of the mouth, "well, that sounds good. If only he answered his texts, we've all been worried. Even dad a little, I think."

She said the last part more to herself than to me. I shrugged and thanked her, handing over the money and walking back home, juggling all of the items I had purchased. John lay on the sofa, his eyes closed but not asleep. He opened them when I shut the door and sat up, gratefully taking the latte and muffin. He left the latter on the table near the couch, just nursing his coffee. I was fine with that.

Lafayette came home an hour later, Sonny helping him with his bags. They both stopped at the doorway, watching John who pretended not to notice their eyes' gaze. He cleared his throat and greeted them both as if all was well. They broke their stare and continued in conversation. John stood up and pulled Laf into their room for a word. I tried not to listen and talked to Sonny about the work he had to do. It reminded me of how close midterms were. I had to work so hard to keep my scholarship. John walked out looking grumpy, grumpier.

"Saturday morning, I'll go with you," Laf sighed.

John scoffed and sat back down, typing furiously on his laptop. He didn't say much more that night and we all fell into a tense silence, no sound aside from me helping Sonny with an essay. We went back to our room and studied together.

In the morning I went to class with a headache, stressed about the oncoming tests. I'd been so distracted lately that it all came crashing at me at once. I wrote down my notes, trying my hardest not to fall asleep, holding my head as it pounded. Someone dropped a pen and I winced as it hit the floor. I left and went to my room, shutting the curtains and wrapping a duvet around my shoulders. I took some painkillers and sat with my laptop, writing things up. Studying. _Study, study, study. Revise, revise, revise._

John knocked on the door and pushed it open slowly. I screwed up my face in pain when it creaked. The bed squeaked as he sat down next to me, snaking his arm around my waist and wrapping the duvet around himself, too. He leaned his head on my shoulder and watched me on the laptop. I felt nervous, not liking when people watched over my shoulder. _Well, he was_ on _my shoulder._ I could smell the faint scent of whisky and sighed, but I didn't say anything. I carried on typing up an essay for English. He shuddered, sending the aftershock through me.

"Are you cold?" I asked.

He nodded, "a little. But you're really warm."

He nuzzled into me and I smiled contentedly. I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands and glared at the screen, not typing any more. The words were scattered and I couldn't make sense of them, nor could I concentrate. I huffed and he looked up at me, pressing his lips to my jaw line.

He saved my essay for me and shut the laptop, moving it to the floor. I stared at him and he stared right back. He brushed my hair out of my eyes.

"You look tired. Are you sleeping?" he asked.

I broke eye contact and cracked my wrist, locked from typing for so long. I cursed myself when I felt the urge to yawn.

"I think you need a nap," he decided, rubbing my arm under the duvet.

He led down on the bed, taking me with him and drew circles with his finger on my chest, burying himself in my side. I rubbed my eyes again, fighting against the need for rest. Why was I fighting against it? That's stupid. I was being stupid. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, too. He wasn't cold, but he wasn't exactly warm either. He hummed a soft melody, lulling me to sleep. I felt myself slipping and my body jolted, my mind tricking me into believing I was falling backwards. He lifted his chin up and locked eyes with me.

"You're alright, babe. You're okay."

He sounded tired and I felt guilty. He was probably falling asleep himself and I'd woken him up. I turned my face away so that it was above his head. His legs were tangled with mine because of the size of the bed, a mess of limbs. His hands were warmer now, my chest feeling cooler. I closed my eyes again and he stretched over me, reaching for his phone. A few moments later I heard soft piano music playing. I opened my eyes and quirked my eyebrow at him even though he couldn't see.

"Debussy?"

He nodded, "helps me sleep, might help you, too."

I shrugged and closed my eyes, yawing. He sniffed and held me close. I listened to the music, to the notes and chords. _Clair de Lune._ I liked that one. I barely noticed as I drifted into a state of sleep; this time my body didn't jolt forward.

I woke up after what only felt like a few seconds, having not dreamt, when the door cracked open, shedding light into the room. Sonny stood in the threshold, looking sheepish.

"Sorry, Laf wants to know if you want something to eat, he's gonna go get something."

I shook my head, "nah, I'm good. John?"

He opened his eyes reluctantly and looked up at Sonny for a minute, "uh…. I- no, no, thanks. I'm good."

Sonny nodded and closed the door again. John picked up his phone and looked at the time. We'd only been asleep for twenty minutes. He dropped it on my desk after hitting replay on his playlist and snuggled into me again. I was grateful, I didn't want to get up either. He huffed and gripped my shirt, having pulled his hand from underneath it. I waited for his breathing to steady out again, my eyes shut. I must have fallen asleep waiting.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Another chapter for you! Hope you enjoy, leave reviews, let me know what you think.**

* * *

John pouted at Laf from the sofa where his head lay on my chest, "I don't want to go."

"We agreed. Just one appointment, that's it. Just one," Laf sighed, getting annoyed at him. He'd been doing this everyday leading up to Saturday.

"No, no, you _say_ one. And then it leads to months of pointless appointments and therapy sessions that are a waste of money and I don't need. All because _you_ took psychology and think I have some mental disorder… which I don't."

Laf pulled on his jacket, "well, I'd pay if it ever came to that. And then on the way back from this _pointless_ appointment, you can tell me how wrong I am and how much I suck."

John hid his face in my hoodie and mumbled, "what you and Herc get up to is none of my business."

I stifled a giggle and nudged him, "just go. It won't even take an hour. Get it over with."

He groaned and sat up, "one?"

Laf nodded, "just one."

He lifted himself off of the sofa and pulled on the shoes Laf had thrown to him almost an hour ago. He waited for Laf to leave and turned his head to me. He leaned in and kissed me once on the lips, slow and delicate, like I was made of porcelain or something. He pulled away and I rubbed his arm. Watched them both go, John traipsing behind Laf.

I went back to my room the second they left, grabbing my bag and going to the library. I needed to get some more revision done. _Tests._ Sonny was waiting for me at a table, like we'd said, his laptop open and looking neglected. His seat was far back from it, his phone in his hand. I rolled my eyes. He pulled a chair from another table to ours and gestured for me to sit down. I passed him the coffee I'd grabbed on the way here and got all of my things out. Pens, notebooks, laptop, highlighters, everything. He grinned at me dopily.

"What?" I asked tentatively at the look on his face.

He shook his head, chuckling under his breath, "nothing, nothing. You just haven't changed a bit, man."

I smiled, turning my head. I pulled his laptop in front of me. Definitely neglected. The screen had gone off. I booted it back up and scanned through his essay, making minor changes here and there. He watched over my shoulder, bumping into me.

"Sorry," he said.

I squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of a sentence.

"What were you trying to say?" I questioned.

He frowned at the screen, "I have no idea. It was late when I wrote this. Is that even English?"

"It's like… English and Spanish… but neither make sense."

He laughed, "it's Spanglish."

I bit down on my tongue trying not to laugh at him, I didn't want us to get kicked out so soon. I carried on checking the essay, the rest was mostly okay. I handed it back to him so he could finish it off as I did some of my own work. I had a textbook open in front of me, the words all merged together in a mess of unreadable knowledge. I groaned and flipped through my own notes from class, piecing things together and trying so damn hard to make the information stick. I wrote down some passages from the textbook in my notebook and highlighted the key parts, picking them out and rewriting them in a way I could understand. Summarising the information. That would probably work. I rubbed my temple as I wrote until Sonny huffed, cracking his knuckles.

"Finished, sorta," he announced, "well, finished this at least."

"Hand it over, man," I said, grateful for the break from my own revision.

I repeated the process with the last part of his essay. Checking, correcting, deciphering Sonny language. I read over it one last time and - satisfied with it - handed it back to him, drinking from my slowly growing colder coffee. I highlighted another section from a passage I'd copied out and wrote a brief summary, willing it to stay in my head. I flipped the page in my notebook and practiced answering one of the exercise questions in the book. The familiar scratch of the pen on the paper was so much better than the sound of a typing keyboard. I strayed away from the revision and wrote a poem in the back of my notebook, nothing amazing, just bits here and there that I could make better later. Make it into something that made sense and was worth working on.

Sonny dropped a pen on his book and sighed, "it's been like, two hours. Can we go now? I'm bored."

I finished writing a stanza and nodded, shutting all of my books and my untouched laptop, packing everything away as he did the same. We threw our empty coffee cups away and walked out, walking through the campus.

"So, how are you and this… guy… going?" I asked, slowly, regretting starting a conversation to do with that the second I said it.

He shrugged. I could feel him tensing up, even walking on the sidewalk.

"Good, I guess? I dunno, I never was great with relationships and all that jazz."

"That's not true, what about us?" I countered.

He stopped on the spot and quirked an eyebrow at me.

"Fair point. But still, do you like the guy?"

He nodded, continuing to walk, "yeah."

"And he likes you?" I pressed on.

"I think, yeah."

I shrugged, "well, that should be enough. Plus, you're pretty new to each other so that makes it okay to not be sure."

We climbed the stairs to get to our dorm, talking all the while. Thankfully about other topics. I pushed open the door. John was resting his head on Laf's shoulder as they watched a movie, both sipping hot cocoas. Sonny and I kicked off our shoes at the door and Laf leaned forward to pause the movie.

"There you are, we were starting to worry, mes amis," Laf smiled.

John nodded in agreement, "yeah, we thought New York had taken you or something."

I laughed along with Sonny, "how can 'New York' take us?"

John rolled his eyes, "it always does. One day you'll be away from this city and feel so unbelievably homesick for a place that isn't even your home home. It's crazy. The city does strange things to you."

We shrugged and dumped our things in our room, joining them in the living area. Sonny and I sat on the floor, and John and Laf returned to the way we'd found them, John's head on Laf's shoulder. We finished the rest of the movie, something about dinosaurs chasing a lady in heels. Yeah, that's _real_ realistic. Sonny got a call and went into our room to answer it, emerging later to tell us he was going out. Laf went for a shower and at last John and I were alone again. He moved from the sofa and sat next to me, knees pressed against his chest.

"How was it?" I asked, bumping my shoulder into him.

He smiled, "it wasn't that bad. But, I do have to have more sessions apparently. Not 'just one'. On Sundays before dinner, so it kinda works out alright."

I leaned against him as the next movie played automatically on John's laptop. He kissed my head as another Jurassic Park movie played. He turned his head to watch it and I yawned.

"Are you sleeping alright, babe?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, "mostly, yeah."

He pulled me closer to him by the waist, watching the movie. I sighed contentedly at the movement and turned to the screen, too. It showed four little baby raptors, running around in an enclosure.

He pulled his bottom lip out, talking like he was speaking to a baby, "awh, look at the little baby killing machines. I want them all."

I turned to him, "they'd eat your face off."

"But they'd be hella cute doin' it. Look at them, look at Blue, all cute and cuddling Owen when he's sad. I want a Blue. Can we get a Blue?"

I laughed at him, "we can't, I'm allergic to… uh, dinosaur scales. Causes havoc for my ability to breath."

He huffed, blowing a fallen curl in front of his face, "fine. No baby Blue. But only because I love you more than I love adorable little dinosaurs that eat my face off."

I sat up straighter, watching his face for a minute. I would have assumed it was just a figure of speech normally, but then I watched his face drain of colour and almost immediately turn a furious shade of pink.

"You- you do?"

He looked at me, making eye contact with me for a second and then looking away again, "I- I do. I love… you."

I squeezed his hand, drawing his gaze back to me, "I love you, too."

He pressed his forehead against mine, a sigh of relief on his breath. His mouth hovered over mine. I closed the distance and kissed him, letting go of his hand and bringing my own to his face. We pulled away when we heard the sound of Laf getting out of the shower and grinned at each other. John weaved his arm back around my waist, lifting up the back of my hoodie. I shuddered and nuzzled into his side. He rubbed circles on the small of my back, tracing the hem of my jeans. He stared at the screen, smirking when I fidgeted beside him.

Laf walked out of the bathroom fully dressed and rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He pulled on his shoes and leaned against a wall, scrolling through his phone.

"Going somewhere?" John asked, sounding the opposite of disappointed.

Laf cocked his head to the side, "... yes. Are you happy about that or something?"

John grinned, "not at all, you will be terribly missed."

Laf looked at me in confusion. I shook my head, biting down on my lip to stop myself from giggling.

Laf looked between both of us and his eyes went wide. He finally got it. "Oh… oh… just- don't. Not on the sofa."

He rubbed his face and left, patting down his pockets on the way out. The second the door clicked shut, John and I burst into a fit of laughter, falling onto each other, our lips finding each other. He sucked on my bottom lip, grazing over it with his teeth. I let my hand travel up his shirt, going up his back. He leaned forward - if possible - even further, straddling me and pinning me against the sofa. I let my head fall back onto the seat of the couch as he attacked my neck, concentrating on a spot under my ear. My hips bucked upwards and he breathed a chuckle next to my ear, sending chills through my body.

He sighed, "'not on the sofa'... not on the sofa my ass."

He stood up and I moaned in complaint. He left for his room, I sat on the sofa waiting. He came out, returning with a condom, towel and bottle of lube, holding them up to me as if asking permission. I nodded and bit the inside of my cheek as he approached, pushing me down on the sofa with one hand, hovering over me. He had one knee holding him up between my legs, the other foot on the floor as he bent down to kiss me, only breaking the contact to pull my hoodie off and chuck it on the floor. He palmed me through my jeans, keeping a hand on the arm of the sofa to keep himself up. I squirmed beneath him, wanting him. He shifted my body for me, moving me effortlessly so he could get onto the sofa properly. I undid his jeans and tugged at them greedily, growing impatient. I wanted him. Needed him. He pulled them down the rest of the way and took his boxers down with them. His cock was already hard, bouncing up and hitting his shirt. I lifted my hips up, taking off the rest of my clothes. He moved off of the couch for me to do it properly, watching me with lust in his eyes. I stood before him, looking him up and down as he did for me. He kept his shirt on. I wanted it off.

"Sofa?" he moved towards me, making me feel so small. But for once, I loved that feeling. Only with him.

I looked back at the leather couch, furrowing my brows, "is there enough room?"

"I'll make room."

I laughed as he moved some of Laf's cushions, throwing them into the corner of the living area and draping the towel over the leather. Shrugging, he pulled me to him, taking my hand and kissing it. I reached between us, stroking him a few times, watching his face contort in surprise and pleasure. He backed me against the arm of the sofa, taking his time as he lifted my chin up with two fingers.

"I love you, 'Lex," he said, a whisper on his breath.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close to me. He told me to lie on the couch. I did so, opening my legs as best as I could in the confined space. He reached down to the floor from where he hovered over me, picking up the bottle of lube and lathering his fingers with it. He pressed one in slowly. I gripped the sofa at the feeling, trying to get used to it. I relaxed as he moved his finger in and out, keeping a steady pace. He stopped, pulling it out and nipping at my collarbone.

"It might be easier if you're on your front, babe. More comfortable. As much as I love looking at your pretty face, I want you to be comfortable."

I agreed and flipped myself when he'd moved out of the way. I rested my elbows on the arm of the sofa and let one of my feet fall onto the floor. I shivered, feeling the cold of the dorm room in October. I felt him shifting above me, felt his breath, warm on my neck. He pressed a finger into me again, twisting it slightly. I buried my face on my arm, closing my eyes.

"Good?"

I laughed in response, "are you gonna do the 'good' thing again?"

He hummed, "mhm, that depends. Are you good, though?"

I nodded, "more?"

He complied, adding a second finger to the mix. I rocked against him, bending my leg on the floor. He stretched me open. It was painfully quiet in the room.

"Still with me? Talk to me, babe," he breathed.

"Please?"

"Already? You sure? Not wanna wait a little longer? I don't wanna hurt you."

I pushed up, on all fours, bringing my other leg onto the sofa.

"Don't make me beg."

I heard him ripping the condom packet and smiled to myself. My hands gripped the side of the couch. He fingered me for a little longer, still teasing me. I groaned, rocking backwards and rubbing against his crotch, wanting him. Needing him. He pulled his fingers out, rubbing his tip over my entrance. I gasped, waiting for him, overwhelmed with lust. He held my hip and pushed in slowly. I grit my teeth, willing my muscles to relax and accept him. He waited for a beat and pulled out, just as slowly, repeating. Over and over. I whimpered, gripping the couch arm as tightly as I could.

"You feel so good, 'Lex. So perfect," he said, picking up his pace ever so slightly.

I moaned, biting down on my shoulder. I felt the fabric of his shirt brushing over my back as he leant over me, pushing his shaft deeper into me. I scrunched my brows together, wanting to feel more connected to him. He nipped at the same spot on my shoulder that I bit, making it wet as he lapped his tongue over it.

"John…" I said, my voice wavering as he thrusted into me.

He nibbled my ear lobe, "what do you want me to do? Tell me."

I rocked in time to the pace he'd set, "faster."

He knelt back up, rubbing my lower back. I caught sight of his shirt joining the other clothes on the floor and grinned. He picked up his speed. Faster and deeper. I surprised myself, his name rolling off of my tongue like a prayer, repeating it like a broken record. He reached for my own neglected cock, pumping me in time to his thrusts. My arms felt weak. I fell to my elbows, my head hidden in my arms. I moaned in ecstasy, relishing in every sensation he gave me. I adjusted myself slightly and near enough screamed in pleasure when he hit my prostate. I could practically feel the look on his face as he worked to hit the same spot again. I bit down hard on my arm as he rocked his hips, still working me over. I felt the muscles in my stomach clench and curled my toes as I came on the conveniently placed towel, cursing as I did so.

His skin was warm and sticky with sweat as he fell down on my back, the skin to skin contact making me moan into the arm of the couch. He thrust into me one more time, hips faltering, panting. He pulled out, whispering sweet nothings into my ear and kissing the skin beneath it. I rolled over, pulling him down by the neck and repeating his action. His hair was stuck to his face with sweat and I brushed it out of his eyes. He sat up and helped me into the bathroom, cleaning us both up and throwing the condom away.

He turned on the shower and I gripped his arm, feeling more than a little pathetic. He rubbed circles with his thumb on the back of my hand, the one gripping his arm too tightly. He put his other hand under the water, testing the temperature and - happy with it - put one foot in, turning to me and taking my hand.

"I've got you. C'mere," he encouraged.

I reluctantly followed him, gasping when he wrapped his arms protectively around me. He held the back of my neck, bringing the shower head to me so I didn't have to move. He wet my hair, making sure to get as little as possible of it on my face. He bent down and pick up the shampoo bottle, biting at my thigh on the way back up. I bit back a laugh, still all too aware of the dripping water, spraying against the wall at the angle he held it at.

"Here, hold your hands out," he instructed, squeezing some of the clear liquid into my cupped hands.

I lathered it into my hair, head back. I felt his gaze and opened an eye. He smirked and started with his own hair, cursing when his fingers got trapped in a tangle. He washed his hair out first, quick and without much trouble. He wrapped his arm around my stomach, pulling my back to his chest. He lifted my chin up and rinsed my hair of the soapy bubbles. I squeezed my eyes shut as he did it. He turned me back around, pressing his lips to my nose.

"You're okay," he breathed, my forehead pressing against his cheek, "I'm here."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

I basically lived in the library at this point. John sat across from me, hiding behind his laptop. He had glasses on, I only just noticed.

"Since when do you wear glasses?" I asked, jaw hanging open. He looked hella cute. Definitely hot.

He looked at me over them, smirking, "we've been here for, what, an hour? And you've only just noticed. God, 'Lex."

I looked back at my notebook, "just asking a question."

"I'm meant to wear them for looking at screens and stuff. I just always forgot to… until I found them yesterday. Does that answer your question?"

I nodded, a smile growing in the corners of my mouth. He continued typing. I continued writing. Ten minutes. I groaned, dropping the pen and pulling at the strands of hair in front of my face.

John rubbed his foot up my leg, still typing, "what's up, babe?"

I leaned back in my chair, frowning, "I'm gonna fail."

He tilted his head up to look at me, pushing his glasses up. _Definitely the most adorable thing._ "Impossible. I've never seen someone more dedicated to studying than you. You could probably recite that book if I asked you to."

I shook my head, "no, I couldn't."

"Course you could, you've been muttering passages to yourself this whole time," he grinned at me.

I blushed, "no, I haven't."

He laughed, "you _so_ have. It's adorable. 'The Siege of Yorktown, also known as the Battle of Yorktown, the Surrender at Yorktown, German Battle or the Siege of Little York, ending on October 19, 1781, at Yorktown, Virginia, was a decisive victory by a combined force of American Continental Army troops led by-'"

"Alright! I get it… jeez."

He pushed his latte cup towards me, "here, drink some go go juice, you're not gonna fail."

"'Go go juice'? Jesus…"

He closed his laptop, resting his chin on top of his fist. He watched me closely. I looked away under his gaze, looking down at my hands.

"I think you need a break from all this," he decided.

I shook my head, pouring out arguments and excuses as to why I most certainly did not need a break from 'all this'. He leaned over, putting a finger over my lips.

"Shh, come on, pack your stuff up. You're getting all grouchy and worked up over things you don't need to get grouchy and worked up over. We're going for a walk."

I scoffed, picking my pen back up and trying to carry on. I heard his chair scrape on the floor as he pushed himself back and walked around to me. My pen hovered over the paper. He took it from my hand and put it back in my pencil case for me. I glared at him, mouth open in shock. He leaned over me, putting all of my stuff away.

"But, John-" I started.

He shushed me again, "we can come back later if it makes you feel better. But we're leaving now, even if I have to drag you out."

He pulled me up with the hand he had offered me. I begrudgingly got to my feet, scowling. He quirked an eyebrow at me until I couldn't hold the face any longer, I let my mouth slip into a smile at his face. He threw both of our bags over his shoulder. I protested, insisting I could carry my own bag. He only shook his head and dragged me to the exit where we were met with the cool air. I shuddered and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, guiding me off campus and past the stores, into a park. We sat on a bench by the lake. I slouched in my seat, worrying a spot on the ground with my shoe. He pulled his hair back against the wind, lazily braiding it. I massaged the side of my head, rubbing circles. He cracked his wrist and leaned forward, turning his head back towards me.

"Now, would you like to tell me what's really _really_ wrong?" he said, looking back out to the lake.

I chewed my bottom lip until I could taste the metallic blood, "I'm going to fail midterms."

"You aren't gonna fail."

"No, I-I am. I'm gonna lose the scholarship, I'll be back at square one. Back with nothing," I fixed my gaze on the ground.

He rested his elbows on his knees, waiting for a second. He stood up and walked to the lake edge. Casting my eyes up, I saw him bend down near the water, picking something up, his back towards me. I frowned, trying to understand what he was doing. He beckoned me over. I complied, staying further away from the water than he was. He reached for my hand, opening my palm and putting a round sort of rock in my hand. He smiled at me, tossing one he had up in the air and catching it.

"Throw it in the lake, hard and as far as you can," he said.

"What?" I rubbed the rough edge of the rock with my thumb.

He sighed, gripping onto his own tightly and pulling his arm back, lobbing it into the water, sending ripples over the water's surface. He tutted to himself.

"Mhm, I think you could get it further."

He stood behind me, guiding me closer to the edge, his arms wrapped around my middle. I resisted at first; he kissed my neck. I let him move me.

"I don't understand."

He breathed out deeply, next to my ear. I shuddered in the cold. He squeezed my middle tighter, "you never done this before?"

I shook my head, still confused. The rock was wet, dripping with mud.

He picked up the rock in my still open palm, moving it in front of my face so that I could see it, "what you gotta do is imagine that everything stressing you out is inside of this rock. Then you throw it, far as you can, let go of the stress. Let it go."

He put it back in my hand. I could feel the side of his glasses bumping against the side of my head. He lifted up my hand, pulling it back. He let go of me and stepped back, still close enough that if I were to step back I would be touching him. I close my eyes and groaned.

"This feels stupid," I grumbled.

"Maybe it is stupid. Do it anyway. Humor me."

He picked up another stone, standing by my side and shutting his eyes, bouncing on his toes; he tossed the rock. He opened his eyes again and looked at me, nodding towards the water. I squeezed the rock, tight as I could. I put one foot forward, pulling my arm back and throwing with all the momentum I could muster up. It went further than his did by far, rippling out from the other end of the lake until it reached us.

He quirked an eyebrow at me, "you bottling up some major shit?"

"I have a lot of stress," I mumbled, turning back around.

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me back to him and enveloping me in a hug. He kissed the top of my head, "you'll be fine with the tests. Once they're over, you'll feel so much better, it's just one week. Going back?"

I nodded, the cold drawing out uncontrollable shivers, driving me insane. The inside of the dorm was still freezing, but warmer than the outside at least. I spotted a blanket draped over the couch and grabbed it, wrapping it around my shoulders. John laughed at me, taking my abandoned bag to my room. I led down on the couch, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. John nudged my shoulder and I sat up. I yelped in surprise when he scooped me up, carrying me to my room.

"John!" I gasped, gripping his arm in fear that I might have fallen.

He shushed me, "nap time. Your eyes look like they want to die."

"I can walk myself."

John smirked, "I know."

He put me under my covers, getting in beside me. I tried to scowl at him, but it only made me laugh. He took his glasses off, throwing them onto the other bed, and moved a hand to my hair, absently brushing his fingers through it. I closed my eyes contentedly, feeling his warm breath on my neck. I pushed myself closer to him, his body like a human hot water bottle. I groaned after a minute, trying to sit up, only to be pulled back down.

"I have things to do."

He shook his head, "nope. Nothing but sleeping."

"John," I stared at him, wishing I looked intimidating so I could get my own way.

"This bed is really warm, y'know? Really comfortable," he clung to my middle.

"Stop, I have so much work to do," I insisted.

He breathed in deeply, "unless it involves staying where you are, I don't think you do."

I pushed my head back into the pillow, feeling defeated. A fight I was never going to win. He giggled in my ear, sending shivers through my body.

"I win," he said.

"No. No, you don't. I just don't feel like arguing back."

"Yeah, so I win."

He pulled his phone out, playing the same playlist as last time. I tried to resist the urge to let myself relax. He moved his hand back to my hair, massaging a spot just past my hair line. I shut my eyes at the touch, let the music drown out the rest of my thoughts. It was a sad song, each note hit a nerve in me, chills. He nuzzled in the crook of my neck, scrolling through his phone. The music went quieter every time he opened an app, louder when he closed one. It buzzed on my chest where he rest it, I opened one eye. He was squinting at his screen, then he rolled his eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

He huffed, turned the music up a little, "my dad's invited me and my siblings out for a meal on my birthday."

I rolled onto my side, our faces inches apart, "I didn't know it was your birthday."

"That's because I don't like my birthday, so I didn't tell you a date. It's at the end of the month."

I kissed his nose and it crinkled in a smile. I pushed my forehead against his, felt his warmth. He brushed my lips with his thumb. I watched his eyes, watched the flecks of gold I'd seen when we had first met, the striking colour of his iris had returned from the few weeks past, no longer glazed, no longer dull. Now full of life, full of emotion. I kissed his thumb, waited till he had moved it before I let my lips fall clumsily with his. He chuckled - or moaned, hard to tell - in my mouth, pulling back for a second.

"You're meant to be asleep," he smirked.

I shrugged, "I'm supposed to be studying and revising."

I closed the distance again, nothing but the sound of the music and the sound of his lips smacking against mine reaching my ears. I melted into him, let his hands explore my body, let my hands do the same for him. He pulled back and squealed, laughing after the initial shock.

"Jesus! You really are fucking freezing," he laughed, taking my hand and rubbing it between his palms, "my poor baby, gotta warm you up."

I rolled my eyes as he clung tighter to me. I wasn't complaining though, it felt good. The music came to a stop. He restarted it. His legs were tangled with mine, half on top of me, buried his face on my chest. I was just lying in silence, listening to the chords and melodies.

"You awake?" He asked when the playlist ended again some time later.

I grunted in answer, my voice sounding hoarse.

"Thought so," he said to himself, "you're not gonna sleep are you?"

"Doubt it."

He nodded on my chest, cheek brushing over my hoodie. He fidgeted with my hoodie strings, I opened my eyes and watched him doing it. His eyes' focus fixed on a point on the wall.

"You're really attractive and it's annoying me," he grumbled.

I pulled a funny face, "I'm... sorry?"

"I'm tryna sleep, and then I look at you and I just wanna make out with you, but I'm really tired," he whined, folding his arms on my chest.

"What do you want me to do about it?" I smirked.

"Humor me some more?" He suggested, lifting himself up so that his face was practically touching mine.

I pushed my head up, kissing him once, drawing back. His eyes stayed closed, fluttered open just long enough for him to roll them. He pushed himself down, arms either side of my head to keep himself balanced. I opened my mouth to him, falling into a trance of sensations, eyes shut, just feeling. I pulled his hair out of its braid so that I could run my hands through it, released the fresh scent of his shampoo. He lay down on top of me, not letting our lips part, our hearts beating as one against each other. He kissed the corner of my mouth, trailing down to my jaw, down my neck, sucked the bulge there. He nipped at the sensitive skin, painting it with flowers of reds and purples. He stopped, satisfied with his work and rolled onto his side, pressing into me in a lazy embrace.

"I still can't sleep," he huffed like a grumpy child.

I sat up and he pouted at me.

"Where are you going now?"

I scooted out of the bed and stood up, "I'm getting up. Your not sleeping, I'm not sleeping, we can do something else."

He pushed himself up onto his elbow, "like what?"

"I don't know, movie or something," I shrugged, not even sure myself what I wanted to do aside from revising.

He got his laptop and I wrapped the blanket around us on the sofa. He rubbed my arm absentmindedly, focused on the movie. I leaned on his shoulder, watching the screen, trying to follow the plot. Too distracted by the beauty of the man next to me.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

His arm had found its way around my shoulders, hand lightly brushing my arm as he chatted with Laf. I was staring into space, thinking about the tests, going through the information I needed in my head. Reciting it like a play. I brought the coffee cup to my lips, not even drinking it, just to have something to do with my hands, needed to feel the warmth on my lips. John would have been better on my lips. No. No. Stop. Tests.

"Alexander?" John singsonged in my ear. _Don't do that, it's way too attractive._

"Why are you calling me Alexander? You never call me Alexander."

He shrugged, "felt like it. Hey, come see a movie with me. Let's go to the movies."

I shook my head, "I can't. I've got things to do."

"Please?" he pleaded, pulling his bottom lip out.

"No."

"Please, Lexi. Please. Please, Lexi. Lexi, Lexi. Please." He hovered his lips over my ear when I turned away from him, " _por favor."_

 _That was cheating._ I moved away, trying so damn hard not to laugh. My face was burning. Lafayette on the other hand was in hysterics. John's hand was travelling up my thigh. Higher. Higher. Okay, definitely not my thigh anymore. _Nope. Fine. You win. You win._

"Movie… movie sounds great." I squirmed in the booth seat. He was giggling into my neck. _Stop that shit or we're going home._

"Well Laf and Sonny are gonna be out all day."

Laf quirked a brow, "we are?"

"Yes," John smiled. He returned to me, "so we can spend the day having some fun. Yeah?"

I nodded. Why was I nodding? I really didn't have time for this. _Oh, yeah. His hand was still there. Okay. Cool, cool, cool, no doubt, no doubt, no doubt._

We finished our drinks quickly and parted ways with Laf, who was calling Sonny to tell him about their 'plans' for the day. John snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. Our breath appeared in clouds of mist before us, cold. I was freezing.

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked.

"No, I'm alright, thanks."

He took his jacket off and gave it to me anyway. He had a black hoodie underneath. We stared at each other for a while, stood in a street. I rolled my eyes and took the jacket.

"Thanks."

"Awh, are you sulking because I always win?" he teased.

"You don't always win."

He hooked my arm with his, "sure, keep telling yourself that."

He bought us tickets to a random movie. I didn't think either of us really cared which. We didn't bother buying any snacks and entered the theater, finding two seats at the back. The screen room was almost entirely empty; only a couple at the very front row. John and I shared a look and silently scooted into the far corner. His hand found my lap again, and mine found his. We sat in silence until the movie started. No one else came in. I tried to watch it, I really did. But I just couldn't get in to it. Twenty minutes in I found myself sinking onto the floor amongst the leftover popcorn and empty cups. I kneeled between John's legs and fiddled with the buttons of his jeans. He didn't say anything, kept his eyes up at the screen. I noticed his lip curling in the corner. I pulled his jeans down as far as I could without making it obvious to the couple down at the front, pulling his pants down along with them. He was holding the arm rests with a firm grip.

His erection was eye level with me. I bit at the inside of his thigh, eliciting a tiny yelp from him which he masked with a polite cough. He looked down at me and I smirked back, trailing kisses up his leg till I reached his dick, licking along the shaft with the flat of my tongue. He was leaning far back into the seat. I looked up at him again and he was pretending to watch the movie. _Fine. If you won't pay me attention..._

I took him all in, hitting the back of my throat, bobbing my head up and down, my mouth a vacuum. His body jolted forward and he cursed, perhaps a little too loud. Lucky for us, some explosion was taking place in the movie. My hand was under his hoodie, rubbing up and down his skin. Relishing in every shudder he gave under my touch.

"Alex…"

I worked faster. Waited until he was close before I held him in my mouth. I heard the leather of the armrest being squeezed as he came hot and sticky in my throat. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and climbed back into my seat. I watched him struggle to put his jeans back on, laughed to myself. He shot me playful glares. We couldn't wait to get out of there. We left early.

Speed walking through the busy streets of New York City, I didn't even care about the crowds. We kissed in the elevator, each one filled with more lust than the last. We shut ourselves in my room, on top of each other already. Hands searching and greedy.

"You top?" he panted.

"You sure?" I hadn't done that yet.

" _Please, Lexi? Por favor_ …"

 _Still cheating. Goddamnit, John._ He pulled me down to the space on the floor between Sonny and I's beds, already tugging at my clothes. His hoodie and shirt were already off. Jeans and pants following. He wasted no time helping me with mine. I reached for the condoms and lube under my bed. _Might as well keep them in my room now._ I rolled the condom on and warmed the lube in my hands. He kicked a leg up onto one of the beds allowing there to be enough room for both of us on the floor and relaxed into a kiss before I pushed the first knuckle in. Then a second. Then another finger. I worked him open until he was begging for me and slid into him, slowly at first. Finding a pace to set for us. He pulled me down into a kiss as I thrust into him, quicker. His tongue searched my mouth.

"Jesus, Alex…" he panted into my shoulder, where he was more than likely decorating my skin with purple blooms. "I knew I liked you when I saw you. You're so good. I'm so lucky."

"John-"

He bit down on my shoulder when I rocked my hips again, silencing me. My rhythm grew less regular as I got close; I came in a rush of pleasure, his mouth back on mine. I waited and pulled out, tossing the condom away and pulling him up into the bed with me, sweaty skin on top of each other. He rolled onto his side and hugged me from behind, we didn't move for the rest of the day.

00

"You're gonna be fine. Good luck." He kissed me one last time before pushing me out of the door and into the cold corridor.

I smiled weakly and walked to my first test. I clenched and unclenched my fist the whole way there, knuckles white. I sat at the desk and flipped the pen through my fingers until we started. I wrote all I could, trying desperately to ignore my nerves and get through it. Time ran out and I finished my sentence, putting my stuff away and leaving. _It was fine. It was fine. It was finished with._

I picked up two coffees on my way back, staying for a little catch up with John's sister and quickly making my way up the stairs. I stopped at a window and put the cups down while I rooted in my pocket for the keys. Found them! I grabbed the coffees and walked down the corridors. A figure was sat outside of our room, face glued to their phone, headphones on… curly hair. John. _Of course._

I stood in front of him, giving him his drink.

"Thank you! You're the best," he smiled, taking his headphones off and standing up.

I quirked an eyebrow, "why are you sat outside?"

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, "oh, I, uh, I decided to go out for a walk and then I forgot my keys, so I've been chilling out here."

I rolled my eyes and let us both in. Humming to himself, he pulled a sketchbook into his lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

"So, how was it?" he asked.

"The test? Not as bad as I thought it would be."

I sat down next to him, nursing my coffee and leaning into his shoulder. He moved the pencil across the page in quick flawless movements, dancing across the paper to create the drawing.

"Never is."

He got bored after a half hour and shut the sketchbook.

"Shit," he spat, midway through putting his art pencils away.

"What is it?"

He picked up his jacket and checked his watch, frowning, "I'm meant to be at the doctors in five minutes. I forgot. Gotta go, sorry."

I stood up in time for him to kiss me quickly on the temple, "no, no, it's fine. See you later."

"Bye."

He was out of the door, nearly crashing into Laf. I shook my head and picked up a textbook, reading up on the next section for the next coming tests. Laf did the same, taking a bite out of brioche and flipping a page.

"Where was he off to in such a hurry?"

"Doctors."

He nodded and continued to read. I eventually moved to my room, drabbling some nonsense into a notebook, going through two pens. In truth, they were nearly out of ink to begin with, but that wasn't the point. I threw the pens into the bin under my desk and pulled a book out of the drawer for English. Lying back on the bed, I soon felt my eyes growing tired and dropped the book on the floor, took my hoodie off and rolled over to sleep. I groaned when someone opened the door.

"What?" I mumbled.

"Food." Sonny passed me a bag. "It's good."

"What is it?" I asked, sitting up.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" he smirked, shutting the door behind him.

I opened the bag and found a squished tupperware box of enchiladas. I shouted a thank you through the door and waited for a response before eating them. They were good, he wasn't lying. I left the empty bag of trash on my desk and rolled back onto my side. Closed my eyes and went back to sleep. A few minutes later the door was opened again, this time by John.

"Hey," I said tiredly.

"Hey, sleepy," he grinned, sitting on Sonny's bed. "You aren't gonna sleep tonight."

"When do I ever sleep at night?"

He smiled and lay down, facing me. I watched him, noticing every damn feature of him I loved. His cheeks, his nose, his hair, his freckles, his dimples, his lips, his jawline - I just wanted to kiss his jawline - his eyes. The most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. But now they looked sad.

"What's wrong?" I frowned.

"Nothing."

"John," I pushed.

He sighed and closed his eyes, "doctor wants me to try some anti-depressants."

I propped myself up on my elbow, "isn't that a good thing? They might make you feel better."

He shook his head, "not really. They didn't work last time."

"How do you mean?"

He sat up and climbed into my bed, resting his head on my chest. I twisted one of his curls around my finger, brushed his hair away from his face.

"Few years after my mom died they gave me these meds, and they worked for a bit, but that's just placebo. But then that wore off and it made me so much worse, dangerously worse, so I-I just stopped taking them. I guess I just don't wanna get that bad again. And, I mean, it's not like I was just impatient or, or I didn't find the right one - believe me, I tried a lot - it's just that nothing worked." He drew shapes on my chest, his breath warm on my skin. "I'm not even sure I want to try it this time around. I hate them. They make me feel like a crazy person."

"You're not a crazy person," I croaked, still tired. "It might be worth a try. Have you tried these ones before?"

He shook his head, tickling my shoulder blade with his hair.

"There you go, then. If they don't work you can go back and talk about it."

He mumbled a sound of begrudging agreement. _Good enough for me._ I kept my hand in his hair, closing my eyes and listening to him breathe, finding the rhythm. He was snoring before I was. Softly. Lightly sleeping. I daren't move in fear of waking him, but I had really bad cramp in my arm. I tried to sleep. Maybe if I left my arm like that it would fall off because of the lack of blood flow. _Fine by me. He was cute when he was asleep._ He was cute all the time. He fidgeted. I took the opportunity to move my arm and silently cheered as the blood flow returned.

"Alex?" he mumbled.

I whispered, "yeah?"

"Love you."

I smiled in the dark, "love you, too."


End file.
